There was a time I had dental insurance. It was only for a few years while I was working at a print shop in Nashville. I had very little experience with dentists, so I knew they were all professional and honest, like doctors and lawyers.

As an open minded and slightly naive type of person, I have no reason to be suspicious of anyone at any time.

I was a walk in, and a walk out after my consultation. I can’t say for sure if the dental office was motivated by racism or they ripped off everyone equally, but it felt a little like racism.

Everything went smoothly throughout the entire visit at the East Nashville white castle dental institution. So smooth that my accusatory thoughts went completely un-investigated.

I enjoy experiencing different American cultures. I’m not afraid of people or areas of town. I usually find that people everywhere are accepting and friendly to people like me, especially when I’m out of my element.

I think I was actually afraid of being accused of being a racist if I reported them, so I did absolutely nothing.
I now wonder if the operation was counting on my fear, or white guilt, or confrontation, or am I giving them way too much credit.

I filled out the forms in the waiting room among a large group of people. All ages, all races, and all lower middle class to poor. It was as warm and welcoming as the Department of Motor Vehicles. Tan painted cinder block walls, one lonely fish in cloudy ten gallon tank on a table, and the usual unorganized pile of over used, torn, scribbled on, missing pages, Highlights magazines on a green shelf in the corner. My initial feeling was that this place must be great. It’s affordable and a great service to the community. Why else would the waiting room be so busy?
All the employees looked tidy and professional. Monochromatic bleached white blouses, pants, and aprons. Fancy hairdoos and painted fingernails. All more to love body type ladies with strong opinions that they kept to themselves during working hours, but could size you up with a glance and a murmur.

I was called to the back, politely asked to remove my baseball cap, and sit in the laid back dental chair. She, of course, commented on my long hippie hair and asked a few seemingly indifferent questions. It felt like I was being screened.

“How you doing today?”
“Good.”

“You got some long hair.”
“Yeah.”

“You been here before?”
“No.”

“Where you from?”
“Texas.”

“Oh, Texas. I never been to Texas. Have you heard of us before?”
“No.”

“Why you move to Nayushveal?”
“Music.”

“Oh you gon’ be a country and western star.”
“No, heh, I don’t really play country.”

“UmmHmmmm. And how did you hear about us?”
“I drive by here on my way home from work.”

“Where you work? Never-mind, you ever hear anybody say anything bad about us?”

“Uh, no.”
“Good. Let’s get started!”

A new assistant came in and had me lay back as she poked on and around each tooth calling out numbers to another assistant who was writing down the secret code on a shiny metal clipboard as if they were seeing just how fast they could fire through it.

Then they left to decipher it and, I assume, discuss how far they could take their lies.

When the actual Dentist arrived, it was like a diva appeared, complete with bodyguards. Then she gave me the news. I had nine cavities, but someone just cancelled their appointment, so they could fix them all right then and there. It was coincidentally incredibly convenient.

I thought about it for half a second and said, I’m not really prepared for that right now. I think I need to go.

She said, ok baby, make a appointment and come back tomorrow.

I said, I will.

But I did not. I walked straight out the door in a daze and went home feeling confused and oddly violated. I’ve only felt that way once before. The time my eyes were dilated at the Git-er-Done Nashvegas optometrist office, and they did not inform me that I would be very sensitive to the sunlight, and they let me drive home anyway. It was like driving home fourteen miles in the flash of an atomic explosion.

A week later, I found a different dentist office. There was only a mom and a kid in the waiting room when I filled out the forms. There was a clean fish tank built into the wall. You could see the bubbles and everything. It had seven alive fish. There was an assortment of current magazines on multiple tables. It was better. The walls were stucco textured with colorful art.

The actual dentist took a moment to inspect my teeth with the same poking method, so I guess that’s a thing, and asked, ‘So just a cleaning today?’ And I was like, What about all the cavities??
But there were no cavities. Not even one. I expected maybe one, but no. Just zero cavities.

And before long, I was gazing into the beautiful brown eyes of a Hindu dental hygienist while she battled my cigarette breath for twenty-five minutes. I went every three months, for as long as I had my insurance. My only complaint was the unsettling loudness of the landscaping equipment outside the serene tooth and gum spa. Even the fluoride flavored mouthwash was delightful. I highly recommend this dental facility. Four stars!

I’ll end this story with a few reminders to all humanity.

-Shop around a bit.
-Ask some questions.
-Report bad behavior.
-Go to the dentist if you can afford to pay for it or have insurance.
-Find a dental hygienist with pretty eyes and nothing else will matter.