Yesterday, I had my dreaded dentist appointment. It was pretty much the uzsh. My hygienest talked too much (why do they insist on trying to have a conversation with you when you’re incapable of responding?), the dental assistant (who wasn’t even working on me that day and only saw me from the back of my head) admired my foil, and, oh, my dentist (who looks and talks exactly like this–EXACTLY) informed me that the sensitivity I’d been experiencing in my lower right molars is from having two cracked teeth. Fantastic. She started to explain something about removing fillings and checking things out and “root canal” might have been tossed in there somewhere. I couldn’t really say because I was too busy listening to the music.
It all started as I was sitting in the waiting room. When I first sat down, Foreigner’s Waiting For a Girl Like You* was playing, which, of course, was awesome. I mean, as far as dental office waiting room music goes, does it get much better than that? But then Feel Like Making Love by Roberta Flack came on and I was like, “That’s what I’M talking about.” I had brought a book, but I didn’t get very far—it’s pretty hard to read and do mental karaoke simultaneously, especially when you’re being constantly bombarded by awesomeness. Just as Roberta’s voice was fading in the distance, I heard “Can you hear me? Can you hear me running?” –classic Mike & the Mechanics, Silent Running. Then something countryish came on and my hygienist came out to fetch me.
Luckily for me, the exam rooms share the same speaker system with the waiting room. Peter Cetera kept me company while I had my x-rays done. I can’t remember which song or if it was from his time with Chicago or after he went solo—it wasn’t one of his more familiar tunes, though that voice is unmistakeable. Then as the hygienist was scraping and picking at my teeth, I started praying for it to all be over while George Michael was Praying For Time. My hands gripped my chair arms as she poked and prodded my gums, but Lionel told me to just chill. It was all very soothing.
The assortment of songs that followed was really…interesting. Next up was Ebony & Ivory (which I can’t hear without thinking of this), then Crystal Gayle’s Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue followed by Missing from EBTG. And when Mr. Bolton started crooning How Am I Supposed to Live Without You? I thought my dental appointment experience was complete (or at least, I was hoping—my cleaning was over and I was waiting for my exam). But no, there was more! I still had to get out of Billy Ocean’s dreams and get into his car and then Anita Baker was giving me the best that she’s got and then just as I was starting to get good and irritated that the dentist still hadn’t come in to do my examination, some chick (I can never remember who she is) was reminding me to breathe, just breathe.
Still waiting for the dentist, I got a little Boyz II Men and an odd cover of Norah Jones’ Don’t Know Why, which I could have sworn was SmokeyRobinson and it was and good frick, where the aitch was this dentist already? My wait was still not quite over, but not to worry because it was Mike and Ann to the rescue! (As far as I was concerned, there was nothing almost about this paradise.)
At this point, I lost all track of time. I don’t know when the dentist came in because, like I said, I was too busy listening to the music. There were just three songs left: Jennifer Warnes’s Right Time of The Night (What’s with all the making love at the dentist? And WHAT is up with this youtube video?), Billy Ocean’s Mystery Lady (You know you’ve been at the dentist too long when you hear two Billy Ocean ditties during the same appointment. Nothing against Mr. Ocean, who is undisputably awesome, but really, what are the odds?), and A Whole New World (heaven knows I loves me some Peabo).
So there it is—the soundtrack to my latest dental adventure. I have another appointment in September to take care of those pesky cracked teeth, and strangely enough, I’m almost looking forward to it.
*While I was searching youtube for this song, I came across a version Andy Gibb did on Solid Gold (Mad, you HAVE to follow this link—seriously, talk about your solid gold!). Following that link led me to this, one of my most favorite Andy Gibb songs ever. Isn’t he pretty? Sigh. Yet another life cut tragically short.