I just want to make one thing clear: I don’t have anything against dentists per se. The only thing I have against dentists is that whenever I write about what I don’t like about dentists, they write in all offended. Like they’re worried that my column is going to cause people to stop going. It won’t. People will only ever go to dentists when they need to and that’s it. No one’s going voluntarily. The dentists must know that.

But that’s it. Everything else I don’t like about dentists is not personal.

But here’s why I don’t want to be there:

1. Every time I go, I need a root canal.

I go for my semi annual checkup about once every three years. And the reason it’s so sporadic is that every time I go, I get a root canal. How many root canals do I want?

Okay, so I don’t actually intend to come in so sporadically. Basically, I keep pushing it off because I don’t have time, and then we pass a point of, “It’s been so long that there is no way it will not be a root canal so I might as well push it off, because it’s not like it can get worse,” until I push it off to the point where it’s two root canals. That’s how it can get worse.

2. It’s a huge time sink.

My dentist actually lives just a few blocks away from me, but his office is 25 minutes away. He’s like, “Why don’t you come in more often?” And I say, “I don’t have time to drive 25 minutes each way and ALSO spend time in the chair.” And he says, “Why not? I do this every day!” He’s getting all offended… So I say, “You get paid!” And he says, “If you’d come more often, you’d save money.” And I say, “You have yet to prove that.”

3. Dentists are a whole separate thing from doctors, for some reason.

With most other maladies, your PCP will at least take a look at it, and if it looks like it will be a big demand on his time, he’ll maybe say, “Go to a specialist.” He won’t even look at your tooth problems.

Not that I like going to the doctor any better, but in a way it’s not as bad. I don’t go to the doctor and walk out paying $2,000 unexpectedly.

“I didn’t even know I was sick!”

Like they decide, “We’re going to have to operate on your arm right now!” and they give you a shot, and you can’t feel your arm for the rest of the day.

4. Dentists have their own vocabulary.

Dentists try to use terminology to make you panic less, but it just makes them less trustworthy. Like they say you’re going to feel some “pressure,” which is just another way of saying, “stabbing.” I know there’s a needle involved. Stop calling it pressure.

“I don’t want to cause you any discomfort,” my dentist says. Yeah, this is how I sit sometimes at home when I want to relax. I just cram an umbrella into my mouth, and a wet-dry vac, and a full-length mirror, and some Medieval torture implements, and I have two people sit unbelievably close to me while I keep my mouth open for extended periods and try not to swallow.

5. The constant X-rays.

Outside of the dentist’s office, I’ve had maybe five X-rays in my life. Though I guess this one isn’t totally on dentists. Usually, the hygienist is the one who does X-rays.

The dentist has them do that because hygienists are easier to replace.

6. I can never get enough Novocain.

The dentist always has to give me like 4-5 shots, minimum.

Regular doctors don’t do this. They have an anesthesiologist standing by and doing math to figure out how much tranquilizer it takes for a person your size, but a dentist relies on a combination of guesswork and leaving it up to you.

So usually, at some point you just have enough of the needle, and you figure you’re going to get through what’s left by clutching the armrest. That’s why there are armrests. They put in armrests in situations when there’s going to be stress, like in airplanes, cars and the barber, for some reason.

7. You can’t see what’s happening.

Some of the stress is that you have no idea what he’s doing in there. It’s not like they have mirrors on the ceiling. And it’s not like you can ask too many questions. You can just sit there and think, “Is something burning? It smells like something’s burning.”

8. Dentists split their focus.

You think he’s working on you exclusively, but he’s not. He has several exam rooms going at once, so he can examine one patient while he’s waiting for another to come in and put on his bib and sit in the chair and adjust his yarmulke so it won’t fall off and in a third room he has a hygienist refilling the mouthwash and putting out the dental tools so the patient won’t think they’re the same ones he used on the previous patients, and in a fourth room he’s waiting for someone’s cement to dry, and in a fifth he’s waiting for someone to decide if he’s had enough Novocain. You’re lucky if he remembers where he’s holding with you.

9. They see you at your worst.

You think the doctor has seen you at your worst? I think the dentist has.

Firstly, your dentist is going to take one look into your mouth and tell you that no matter how you’re brushing, you’re doing it wrong. He’s like, “Do you even own a toothbrush? Here, take one of mine.” Then he leans over you for an hour, not saying one word about how much you’re dribbling on your chin. And then on the way out, you ask, “So how long do I have to wait before eating?” which always sounds like that’s all you were thinking about the whole time in the chair with your mouth open: “When can I eat?” And the dentist is like, “No wonder his teeth are so bad.”

It’s a good thing dentists don’t write columns about us.

Mordechai Schmutter is a freelance writer and a humor columnist for Hamodia and other magazines. He has also published eight books and does stand-up comedy. You can contact him at [email protected].