I’m not terrified of dentists or anything, but it must be universally recognised that there are more pleasant ways to spend an hour. It all starts off innocently enough, with the happy receptionist and the cute dental nurses showing their perfect smiles and clamouring to be your best friend, but as soon as you’re pinned in that chair and the almighty needle looms in front of your face, it’s pretty clear that anything resembling friendliness or even mere civility is left outside with the collectible issues of Take a Break.
The fact that the anaesthetic only kicked in about an hour after I needed it, and once it had worn off my mouth took a while to settle into its revised shape, left me somewhat discombobulated for a few days last week.
Thankfully I only needed the replacement of an errant filling which resigned its post just before Easter, and things have settled down now. I haven’t spat any metal filings for a few days or anything. Even so, I can’t help thinking: it’s a good job the dental nurses are cute.