I went to the dentist last week and before the cleaning was finished, I found out that I needed a filling. Needless to say, I was quite unhappy, but the whole visit was not completely unpleasant. I had a good looking dentist who, when he came in for the annual check up at the end of the cleaning, started flirting with me. Sitting in the dentists chair with that hideous plastic bib on, trying to respond to his questions with a mouth full of metal tools, was not incredibly attractive, but I still enjoyed the dentist’s attentions for the five minutes the torture lasted (torture referring to the metal tools applied to my teeth, not the dentist’s witty quips).
When I left the office, however, I ran into the dentist again at the front desk and the encounter took on a whole different light. Out of the reclined position, looking at the dentist upside down, with a bright light shining in my eyes, discomfited by the cleaning tools in my mouth, I was a bit more focused and aware of my surroundings. I was suddenly left with the feeling that my dentist, however flirty he might have been with me, was gay. You know that vibe you get, a sixth sense that some call “gaydar,” that helps you pick up on men’s sexual orientation so that you don’t embarrass yourself asking a man out that would rather join you in drooling over Josh Lucas? Well, I don’t pretend to have this sense in abundance, but I can usually tell the difference.
Which is why I was confused.
The next week, at the filling appointment with the same dentist, I luckily had a second opinion. Because I faint at the sight of needles and the numbness novocaine causes freaks me out, I brought my mother with me to the procedure (the word you are looking for here is wimp). Again, the dentist was chatty and even my mother remarked that she thought he was flirting with me in the waiting room. The flirting continued throughout the procedure, and at the end of the experience, I was just as puzzled as I had been the week before. Meeting up with my mother again in the waiting room after the dental work, we left the office and immediately proceeded to discuss the situation. She was just as confused as I was, saying that he was obviously flirting with me, but saying that she definitely thought he was gay.
So what’s the deal? Is he a gay man who flirts with female friends just as a form of communication? Is he gay, but doesn’t know it? Is he straight and my mother and I were really off with our instincts? What is going on? Why can’t men be clear? Even gay men (assuming my dentist was actually gay) are sending mixed signals.
My Saturday was confusing at best, but at least Dr. McFlirty made the filling quick and relatively painless!
In the words of my pushy dental hygienist, don’t forget to floss!