To paraphrase Mad Men’s Lou Avery let me begin by asking,
how is everybody today? Ready for your routine read? Just open your mouths and
say “Aaaah”
Dr. Rabbit is a five foot six, amiable, not exactly a broth of a lass but pleasant. She
looks like a little psychedelic brunette perched on those drawings you see in gift
shops without the trippy colors. In black and white
Usually when I meet someone I have designs on I use a line on her with
enough cheesiness to make a meal and I make it a point of doing the old red
blood cell impression , circulating and transmitting onwards the oxygen of the
news from cell to cell (at this rate I may need a hormonal performance exam.
I’m such a female!). By the time this goes to post my entire phonebook will
have known I like a girl.
“Dr. Rabbit, I thought staring into the dentist’s light. Dr.
Rabbit, what was I thinking of? Why am I taking it so slow?” “Because you just
met her”, I answered myself “What am I frightened of? Why haven’t I said
anything?” “Probably the big needle in your mouth”, I answered again. Needles
and any other medicaments for that matter give me the willies.
Okay let me put this bottle of ‘Pavitra Rishta ‘back in the
fridge and start from the beginning. Give it a little background. I sat outside
the dentist’s office yawning convincingly at the dentist’s assistant every time
she walked in and out. There was no queue and I knew I’d be called in but those
of you who know me (Hi, madam receptionist) understand that I’m not a very
patient chap. So I walked to the wall where there was a caricature of a Dr.
Rabbit and the doc’s minion fighting plaque which had attacked the dental
kingdom.
Assistant: John?
*I walk in*
Doc: Hi, John
Me: Hi. You must be Dr. Rabbit
Doc: No! Do I look like a rabbit??
I felt my face flush like someone had opened a valve around
my ankles. So much for cheesiness and the meals they make. I couldn’t tell
whether she was insulted or she knew what I meant. She did put the poster up or
obviously seen it.
I can’t tell whether it was the numbed sense in my mouth
that heighted my sense of smell or that she leaned in very close to get a good
view of my teeth but I could smell her skin. It wasn’t like a can of perfume
crawled up her shirt and died (hi again madam receptionist). It was subtle and
nice. Body odor. She was very patient and impossibly lovely.
I want to see her again. Ride my white horse (or a number 15
matatu) back there. Luckily I have more cavities to be fixed. I don’t know how
lucky that is.
“And I’m not Dr. Rabbit”, she says as I leave her office. This is what I saw
