“Jeff?”
A voice calls me into the back from the waiting room.
As I get up, I notice that her eyes are dark against her fair skin, almost black. They’re piercing, but gentle, never intimidating. Her face is kind and welcoming, full of youth, like the younger sister of your girlfriend.
I follow. Her hair is pulled back in a neat, braided ponytail. Wrapped around the curves of her body is her dental gown, and she looks like a small, sterile package of energy. She asks the usual questions, speaking with unrivaled confidence. It’d be intimidating as well, if it wasn’t for the control in her voice.
Even after I’m seated in the chair and the ultrasonic scaler starts to whirr, I’m surprisingly calm. The unique buzzing, spinning, squirting, sucking sounds begin their symphony.
She rests her forearm on my chest for leverage as she works on the posteriors.
I start to wonder how appropriate it is, if anyone has ever spoken out. Or have they not had the heart, like me?
I feel objectified.
As she works, she makes one-sided small-talk, saying every word with conviction. With her tools in my mouth, I answer only in mumbled positives and negatives. She goes along the arch systematically, molar to molar, lingual to buccal.
I want to see her eyes again, to take a closer look at what struck me first. To avoid making an obvious, darting glance, I preemptively look where her eyes will be soon as she follows her predictable path, and wait.
Her eyes arrive, and I look away. It’s too uncomfortable. I’m peering into the world of another who’s distracted, not returning my gaze.
Her physical intimacy was innocent, I assume.
Mine may have been less so.
:) Love it. Though that objectified feeling usually gives me the horrors. I’m not comfortable with it in any profession, not even hairdressers. Probably why I cut my own hair, avoid doctors like the plague and only just suffer the attentions of a tailor.
I imagine it’s rather different for a man. You’re always making me think :)
::smirk:: Dear.
I had Vietnamese doctor once that did that for me.
Yai!
What a twist of things in the gut while they’re just .…. examining.… and I, silently leaving my body like that stuff coming out of a Donnie Darko character.….
I’ve never really understood why so many people are uncomfortable in situations like that. I kinda like just sitting in the chair and not really thinking about anything while the doctor/barber/whatever does their thing. I’ve always loved going to the eye doctor, for some reason. Although your situation does sound pretty unique, I can’t say that’s happened to me, haha.
@Bean — It probably is different for a man, although I can’t imagine how. I bet this hygenist does the same thing for both men and women, because she seemed so oblivious about it.
Always like it when I can make someone think. :)
@Xibee — Doctors are supposed to get close, but a doctor who gets too close is pretty bad, compared to what I went through. Especially when they’re the opposite sex.
There’s something about personal space that’s different from person to person. Some people are really touchy-feely, and some people get really uncomfortable from physical contact. I can’t imagine why someone would like going to the eye doctor though. Sounds like the start of some kind of fetish, hahah.
Funny how we can connect with a stranger for one moment, yet down the road some time from now we hardly remember our neighbors and high-school classmates.
I find memories are getting more and more ephemeral nowadays, especially in the Western culture. Everything is oriented to “now”. It’s quite a pity actually.
When I used to have braces, one of the dentist techs that would clean my teeth and put on new bands would do that to me all the time. I always felt a little funny at the warm sensation of her breasts, but ultimately enjoyed it. It made the time at the orthodontist well-spent, even at 13.
Hahahhah, that’s a great story, 18. Better than mine, because of how young you were. The funny thing is that I thought that this was an isolated incident. I’ve had a few dentists/hygenists over the years, and none of them have ever gone so physically close.
For some reason, I had a sex scene in my mind when I read that. Didn’t realize it was the dentist. Did you do that on purpose?
No, I didn’t have a sex scene in mind. Maybe this is a sign that I should become a writer of erotic literature.
What exactly did you think it was?
It’s called teasing. In the good sense.
Relating, communicating, initiating conversation. I don’t exactly know how it spireled down to Alice’s porno show, but I can assure you it was a somber dark slippery hole, advertised on a marquise for your friends.
Blood, you ask?
Whose? Whose blood exactly DID YOU TAKE?
Yes, it was, reciprocal. Then called a horse to call it an accident. Then called the horse family to give me oats. And a fire ant farm to keep me at a distance. No, don’t touch the fat girl.
Nuh, huh. Show me how you prepare, argh, your ACCIDENTAL sushi.
Oh, I see why you’re still a pet. Didn’t like the sushi, huh. Aw.