Not That There's Anything Wrong With That...

I'm not saying they are exactly like Felix and Oscar, I'm just sayin' that my dentist and his hygenist are definitely an Odd Couple.

The dentist would be the Oscar one. He's very nice, fairly intelligent and extremely funny. And though he's no soiled slob, I've come to realize that he is smart enough to know that other people need to organize his life. He does his work and he does it very well, but the truth is that his success can be just as much attributed to his charm as his dentistrical talents.

He's very funny, my doctor. I'd reckon that he harbors a deep-seeded desire to be a stand-up comedian. I'd take him for a graduate from the Jerry Seinfeld school of everyday comedy. That said, my dentist could never do stand-up for one simple reason: there are heckler's in comedy clubs. He's no good with hecklers. That's not his schtick. As a dentist, on the other hand, his audience is completely captive. And I mean that literally. Not only are we practically locked into a monster-like chair where any thoughts of breakout quickly evoke images of The Great Escape, but with all the mirrors and sharp objects crammed into our mouths, any sudden movement may result in something more reminiscent of the bloodier moments in Nightmare on Elm Street. There leaves no alternative but to struggle out your best open mouth laugh, which usually leads to a fair bit of drool trickling down the chin, followed by a somewhat embarrassed, somewhat retarded feeling. But all in a good way.

On the other side of the fence, is the hygenist, heretofor referred to as Felix. She's the straight -laced one to Oscar's mayhem. I don't know if Felix has ever laughed in her life (except perhaps when she's feeling particularly sassy and Oscar makes a particularly funny joke. But those stars don't align very frequently.) Honestly, I'm glad Felix is the hygenist. What with all the sharp objects crammed into my mouth, I'd rather a detailed, highly attentive, uber-methodical person were on the other side of those objects than, say, a Jerry Seinfeld graduate.

Felix is a jogger and we talk about that whenever I'm in the shop for a clean-up. But she's a jogger in a sad sort of way. For instance, last year she had to take a few weeks off jogging due to a sore knee. You see, she was at the gym jogging on the treadmill when somehow she tripped or slipped or just plain stopped paying attention and - FFFWWWWITTT! - she got zipped, flipped and discarded off the back of the moving treadmill like a scraped off potato peel. There were sharp objects in my mouth when she first told me this. I tried not to laugh, but the drool trickled down my chin anyway.

Most recently Felix hasn't been able to run because of a liver problem. I don't know what the problem is, but it didn't sound good. And the more I think about it, the more I am not surprised she is having physical ailments like liver problems. She's very methodical in everything she does. Perhaps she oughta stay off the treadmill for a bit longer and spend some time watching the Seinfeld show.

Hmmm...Maybe Felix needs Oscar as much as he needs her.