Dentist Dodging

If you've ever complained about the cold-hearted, uncaring attitude of your spineless dental clinic, you've never been to the Ellice Dental Group. They are very committed to my dental health. In fact, they are far more committed to me than I am to them. I've spent the last 6 months playing a complex game of hide-and-seek with them. They phone, I don't answer. They leave messages, I don't return them. They call me at work to remind me that I haven't seen a dental hygienist in 4 months!! I promise to make an appointment later and make an excuse to hang up. They call and call again: your teeth have not been seen to! Your teeth have not had a good professional cleaning in months! Call me! We're playing Uninterested and Jilted Lover; they are the stalker to my stalkee, a faithful admirer that I've been woefully neglecting. Don't call me, I'll call you. I'll call you when I'm ready, I'll call you when I'm free, I'll call you when I'm interested just stop calling me.

It was the at-work phonecalls that turned me against the dentist. Beforehand, I was always flattered that they would think to call me. But after they started phoning me at work, they took on that semi-telemarketer quality that I detest. They left a message on our home answering machine again last week, and, as usual, I ignored it until it was finally deleted. I thought nothing of it. But Ellice Dental Group is not to be ignored. They've upped the ante now. When I got home from school today, what was sitting on my doorstep? A shiny new postcard with a decidedly sinister flare to it. On the front is a drawing of a decrepit, disembodied tooth. "Preventative Dentistry for a healthy smile", it reads. And then "It's time for your dental check-up and cleaning. Call today for an appointment."

This is no ordinary dentist's office. This is a Dental Mob. This postcard is saying "we know you've been ignoring us. And we know where you live," complete with an image of an extracted tooth to remind me of what will happen if I don't call today. Tomorrow morning I expect to wake up to a horse's bloody, severed jaw-bone tucked into the foot of my bed. But will I cave under this sort of pressure? Will I heed these toothy threats? Will I finally return my dental hygienist's calls? Tune in to find out in next week's episode of Patient to the Mob