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The dentist plays the piano
There is no name for a female Dentist or I would gladly use it.
Even when there’s nothing toothingly wrong I obediently visit my dentist regularly like a good boy.
Good humouredly she pushes me in the chair.
Tips it over backwards.
Ties a bib around my neck.
Blinds me with a halogen lamp and starts her work.
She has a cheerful conversation, but does not really expect an answer, because I can’t say anything with her tools sticking into my mouth.
In the background I can hear soothing music.
Fiddling between my teeth she hums along. That means she is pleased.
When I have rinsed my mouth she tells me she likes to play the piano.
It relaxes her after a busy day in the practice.
When her fingers run over the ivory key tops, she often thinks about herself playing her patients teeth.
She often wonders if she should not treat her white piano keys, because in some places she can detect some key top tartar.
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