One Model of Independence AJ DYKENS-HODAPP
My mouth was pried open. Like I was in a perpetual state of disbelief. Somehow they had tricked me into allowing all this. A big round flood light was directed at my face, which must’ve looked pathetically frightened and in pain. More like a child than an adult. “I know this is uncomfortable sir. Believe me, these teeth are in desperate need of work.” I nodded and made a grunting noise. “How often do you floss?” he asked. I wasn’t sure how to respond. It didn’t seem like I could lie my way out of it. “Usually we recommend flossing at least once a day, to protect against gingivitis. It can get pretty nasty. That’s why this is such a tough process right now. Your gums are like puddy.” I remember a vaguely medieval metal hook tool, and wincing at the sound of my teeth scraping metal. He lectured me pretty much the whole time, as the iron-y taste of blood filled my mouth. It was all really off-putting. After it was over I was escorted back to the front desk. The waiting area smelled like disinfectant. They gave me some extra cotton balls for my gums and a gift bag with a sticker, and floss. I reached out to grab a sucker from a small glass jar on the desk. The receptionist looked up and told me “those are for the kids.” You‘re right, I don’t need a sucker, I am a sucker.
28 • spring 2021
