The Dentist's Office
In the last two years, the dentist's office I go to has turned over a lot of employees. For my last four visits, I have seen a new dentist each time. Over the course of five years of visiting this office, the only people who have remained the same are the two receptionists Pam and Nancy. Lovely women, who if they ever leave then so will I. Anyway, two years ago, I saw Dr. C. Nice guy, but too much garlic in his breath. He used to do that thing (that I really dislike) where he would have all his tools in your mouth, and then he would ask you questions where you couldn't just answer, "Yes," or, "No." You can't move your mouth or tongue, but he wants your opinion on a Baroque style couch? Not fun. He also didn't shoot me up with enough Novacaine to finish my filling, so I felt it all. Awesome. Two days after seeing me, he left for parts unknown.
Next came Dr. P. Nice guy, bad hair plugs. He liked to tell me all about his kids' potty training, and his first wife's infidelity. Great topics when you can't go anywhere. After I saw him, he left to go open his own office in Rogers. It's a little too far for me. At the same time, three receptionists or hygenists left.
The next dentist was my favorite. Dr. C. She was Canadian and quite nice. The sad thing is that I knew more about Canada than she did, but that's fine. It was only her second day when she saw me. She knew how to ask only yes or no questions when the tools were in, and then ask the complicated questions later. That was nice. After seeing her, she left three weeks later for North Carolina. Also my hygenist quit, and another receptionist I like took off.
So yesterday I saw another new dentist, and a new hygenist. However, everyone now thinks that I am cursed. Whoever sees me will end up leaving for some reason. That's the joke. In six months, we'll see if it's true.
The Tennis Court
I joined a tennis league a few weeks back. Once a week, I get to try and get some exercise and work out my agression by crushing a little ball. It's fun, usually. Today, however, was frustrating and annoying. I admit that I can be obnoxious and loud, but when I play tennis, I try to be courteous to other players out there. The gentleman I played today does not think like I do. No, he pretty much swore as loud as he could and acted like a big kid. I slammed a hard forehand down the line, and he was right there for it, but he missed. He let out the loudest tirade of F-bombs that I have ever seen to the point where every other player on the other courts turned and stared. He cursed to high heaven everytime he lost. It was really unprofessional and annoying. Very unsportsmanlike. What's worse is that after I won the first set, he started cheating me. If a ball was near the line, he called it out and usually late. I hit a beautiful ace right by him. I start to move over to the other side, and he goes, "Umm. Yeah. Uh, that was, um, out. Yeah." I was pissed. He did this to me over and over and over. I ended up losing the second set, and he didn't want to play a full third set, so we had to play a tiebreaker where he cheated me out of points again. Now granted, I should have won the second set. I should have played better so he couldn't cheat me, but still....COME ON! Are some people that petty and desperate that they NEED to win? The cursing was one thing, but the cheating was another.
After tossing one of my students out of the classroom today for totally inappropriate behavior, he was swearing up a storm. I pulled him into the hallway and tried to calm him down, then I explained to him that between his behavior and his absence of work and attendance, he would not be getting credit for the class. He then told me, to my face mind you, "I hope you and your wife die, and I can dance on your grave, bitch." Now, I can't hit him. That would get me sued, but I can use words against him. I looked him, stepped up to his face, and said, "If anyone's going to die around here, it's you. You can't even read the back of a bottle of water. How are you going to know if you're drinking poison? How are you going to be able to do anything if you can't even read the note that's on my door? Get used to this phrase: 'Do you want fries with that,' because that's your future. Now get to the office!"
I shouldn't have lost my temper, but this is a kid who thinks that I should allow him to pass, because this is his, "second time taking the class, and I failed last time, so you have to let me pass." Bottom line: he's not passing. End of story.
My lawn is a mess. One of my neighbors, for the first time ever a few days ago, commented that my lawn, "looked so nice." Ever since then, Crabgrass, Clover, and other lovely little broadleaf weeds have sprung up all over the place. Add to that the brown spots from all the heat, and it suddenly looks like death paid a visit and crapped on my lawn. It's embarrassing, at least to me, because it says, again to me, that I don't take care of the lawn. My neighbor, by saying something nice, cursed my lawn. It's like when you watch a sport (say Hockey), and the announcer says, "this team hasn't lost to the other team in six years." What happens? Your team loses. It's karma rearing around and kicking you like a mule.
But hey, curses can be broken. Maybe something better is around the corner.