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Last week I was at Dr. Goldfarb's for a teeth whitening, but needed a general check-up first.
I was meek and sweet to the receptionist and dental assistant like I always am.
Then Sarah, the assistant, took me into the room with the big plastic plant to wait for Dr. Goldfarb.
“Hello ‘Dr.’ Goldfarb” I began, rabbit-earring the fingers of both hands.
“Hello Mrs. Seder”. He already sounded weary.
“You’re not irritated with me or something, are you?” I whiningly inquired.
I always make my voice extra whiny when I’m in his office.
“No Vanessa, it’s just that the last time you were here I think you weren’t feeling that well,” he politely offered.
“Your sister-in-law tells me she never sees you,” I attacked.
“I’m very busy and so is Harry,” he defended.
I nudged further. “At least you haven’t forgotten your brother’s name.”
“Can we just get to this Mrs. Seder?!” He was visibly agitated.
I threw up my hands and gave him my sweetest bingo hall smile.
He adjusted my chair and began examining my teeth.
“You have a remarkably intact dentition for someone your age,” he noted when he was through.
“And you have remarkably little hair for someone your age, ‘Dr.’ Goldfarb,” I observed while rabbit-earring my fingers again.
“Why must you do that with your hands?!” His voice rose.
“Well, you’re not actually a Doctor; you’re a dentist aren’t you?” I chided.
“We’re not getting into this again!” he ordered while waving his finger.
It was time to play the child; I pouted and spoke in a shaken, hurt tone. “I was just pointing out something I thought would help you.”
He softened. “Sarah will be in to perform the whitening.”
He always pretends to be so kind and patient--just like my father did--but since I know what men like him do on the weekends, I continued the assault.
“You won’t let her ruin my teeth will you? You know how these girls are today.”
He was forced to respond. “Mrs. Seder—-I assure you—-Sarah is as competent as I am in performing this procedure.”
I ignored his response.
“You’re not the ‘Dr.’ Goldfarb who gave all those people AIDS are you?”
I held my mouth agape and contorted an expression of disbelief combined with disgust.
“I will not dignify that question with a response!” He was livid.
“I’m not surprised,” I hatefully nasaled, “you didn’t dignify the Purim service by wandering in ten minutes late.”
“You are a twisted old bitch!” he snarled, “Get out of my office!”
“If you’re going to sexually harass me why don’t you just raise your voice even more so all my potential witnesses can hear?”
He said nothing so I continued.
“ ‘Dr.’ Goldfarb—you’re shaking. I definitely want Sarah to do the work on my teeth now. The last thing I want is for you to slip and give me AIDS!”
Dr. Goldfarb made a fist--as if to hit me--and bolted from the room emitting a ballon deflation squeal through his gritted teeth.
Sarah came in a few minutes later to begin the whitening.
I told her she had a beautiful tan and was a smart dresser.
When she was finished I purred, “Sarah, is Dr. Goldfarb going to give me a final check-over?”
“No dear,” Sarah replied, “apparently he told Cheryl he was taking an early lunch.”
As we walked to the front desk I offered more complements and then used my favorite tactic, the question-comment.
“Do you know his wife--he seems like a hard man to deal with?” I sympathized.
“Oh, he has his moods, doesn’t he Cheryl?” confided Sarah.
They both nodded in agreement.
I made my voice as little as possible. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”
Date Written: December 19, 2004
Author: hagit mizrachy
Average Vote: 3.7143