Hard to believe it's been ten years since JB referred me to Doctor D. JB kept raving about his wonderful dentist. Meanwhile I had the uneasy suspicion my convenient, in-town dentist saw me as little more than a walking dollar sign with teeth yet to cap. I envisioned him calculating what work I needed based solely on whatever new car he was eyeing and a surreptitious x-ray of my wallet.
I was a bit nervous the first time I saw the amount of Christian paraphernalia in Doctor D's waiting room. It may have been he marble replica of the Ten Commandments. Or the illustrated bible story books aimed at children. Or the box of actual bibles. (Free! Take one!) I made a mental note not to mention my sexual orientation, and to suppress any flamboyant mannerisms I may have subconsciously picked up from my previous dentist.
Turns out there was little need to worry. The husband and wife team assumed I was JB's partner and if they have any problems with that, they hide it very well. It's as if they have all the best qualities of being Christian, which is a rare and wonderful thing.
I better get going. I get ten Hail Marys and extra gum scraping time in purgatory if I'm late.