A Typical Visit With My Dentist

At my dental visit yesterday (June 23, 2014) to fix a molar (in which a corner had broken off), my dentist's assistant was a young woman, Sarah, 29, who was in my daughter's high school class and began working there last fall, is a very attractive young woman with a great personality and Sarah has the most beautiful smile with big, deep dimples in her cheeks. My dentist, Dr. Ricker, told me that to fix my broken molar, he could either give it a new filling ($250) that would probably last several years or put in a gold crown ($1,000) that would be more permanent. As I was laying on my back looking at Dr. Ricker to my right, and discussing with him the pros and cons of either choice, Dr. Ricker recommended that if he was the patient, he would go the route of a new filling.

I asked Dr. Ricker, "Is it okay if I ask for a second opinion?"

I could tell that Dr. Ricker was surprised by my apparent seriousness of my question and he replied, "Well, yeah! Sure."

I rolled over and looked to my left and, looking at the dental assistant, I asked her very gently, "What do you think, Sarah?"

Sarah laughed very hard (as did Dr. Ricker) and, showing her beautiful dimples, she exclaimed, "I don't know! Whatever he said."

I laughed and told Sarah, "You know where your paycheck is coming from, don't you?" And Sarah replied, "Yeah," and all three of us had a good laugh.

The Brute Who Made Me Mad in a Walmart Checkout Line

About 10 years ago, one of my favorite Walmart checkers was a high school girl named Desiree who was sweet and petite who always wore her long brunette hair in a pony tail, about 5' 2" and Desiree couldn't have been more than 95 pounds. One day, I was in Desiree's checkout line and in front of me was a man and his wife checking out and the man was a big strong guy and this couple had a 50 pound sack of dog food on the bottom of their cart, and instead of this man helping little Desiree with this heavy sack, he just stood there, watching Desiree come around and reach down to lift this bag up to the counter top where she could scan the code label, and then Desiree struggled to lug the heavy bag back down and place it back under the shopping cart.

After this couple finished checking out and had pushed their cart until they got out of earshot, I told Desiree that I was pretty upset at that guy for not helping her with that heavy sack. In her usual cheerful voice, Desiree told me, "Oh, it's okay. That's just part of my job."  As I was signing the credit card machine to pay for my purchase, I told Desiree, "Well, I'm still pretty mad at that guy for not helping you."

And then in her meek little voice, Desiree told me, "You could have said something to him."

I burst out laughing very hard and then I told Desiree, "He would have turned me into a grease spot," leading both of us to laugh.

A Self-Revealing Experience

I just had a self-revealing moment about myself last week (June, 2014) . I was in my car, sitting at a red light and to my left, in the left turn lane, comes and parks beside me is a black car driven by a tough-lookin' guy in his late 20s or early 30s, I'd say, with his scalp wrapped up in a dark blue bandana and, with his windows down, I could easily hear his hard core rap music playing loudly in his car.

And at that moment I was more keenly aware that my car's CD player was playing Taylor Swift's beautiful song from her "Red" album, "Sad Beautiful Tragic," which I've had on "Repeat" for the past several days.

Yes. I admit it. It is true. I am a Sensitive Soul. (And I also plan to steer clear of that rap music-listening rough neck if I possibly can.)