I work as a nurse on an OB/GYN ward, and our clinic does not have dentistry. (Note that the word for gynecologist is “women’s doctor” in German.) We do get a lot of calls from people looking for medical advice, and this is one of my favourites.

This happened on Good Friday, which is a public holiday in Germany. Normal doctor offices are closed; hospitals are obviously still open.

Caller: “Hello, I’m Mr. [Caller] trying to reach the gynecologist.”

Me: “Hello! This is Ward [Number] for OB/GYN. You’re talking to a nurse. How can I help?”

Caller: “Oh, I wanted the day clinic.”

Me: “Unfortunately they’re closed for the holidays. They will open up again on Tuesday. Maybe I can be of assistance?”

Caller: “Yeah, my girlfriend went to the day clinic for an ultrasound a few days ago, and now she’s got a toothache.”

There’s a long pause because I assume he will continue speaking.

Me: “…yes? A toothache?”

Caller: “I think she might need antibiotics, and our dentist’s office is closed. We want the gynecologist to check it out.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but a gynecologist doesn’t treat toothaches. You will have to call a dental clinic for that. Our hospital doesn’t have that, but you can use Google to find one close to you. There’s plenty of them open twenty-four-seven.”

Caller: “I don’t want to do that. My girlfriend is a woman!”

Me: “I see. Her being a woman, unfortunately, doesn’t change the fact that our gynecologist doesn’t treat toothaches. Even if you come here, you’d have to go to the ER, and they will refer you to another hospital.”

The caller gets grumpy and tries to argue with me. I politely repeat that they need a dentist. In the end, he just hangs up.

Our doctor, who has been sitting next to me, giggles.

Doctor: “I thought I got weird calls!”

Me: “Maybe she’s got teeth down there!”

I used to work as a dental assistant, and I was always at work early to help set up. One day, I’d had a super busy, exciting weekend and ended up getting to work an hour after patients started arriving, two hours after I would normally get there. I didn’t realize I was late as I had recently started the job and had accidentally reverted to my prior job’s schedule. I endured a gauntlet of glares and questioning glances while I jumped in to help catch things up.

Once things calmed down a bit, my boss pulled me for an explanation. I wordlessly held up my left hand to show my new engagement ring. 

Boss: “Well, I can’t very well write you up for that! Don’t do it again, okay?”

Me: “Get engaged? I hope this is a one-time deal!”

Almost three years later, my husband and I have been married for two years, and I love him to bits. I no longer work in dentistry, but the office threw me a lovely little bridal shower.

Paczkis [Polish filled doughnuts] are VERY important in Chicago culture. On Paczki Day/Mardi Gras, bakeries are extremely busy. 

Unfortunately, I have to get dental work done that day. However, as I’m leaving work, one of my coworkers tells me to grab a Paczki. Of course! It’s the end of the lunch hour, so there are only powdered sugar-coated ones, but not only are they fresh, they’re filled with Boston creme. 

I think I can spend the drive to the endodontist with sticky fingers… and sticky teeth. 

I’ve never been to this office before, so as I walk in, I’m trying to dust myself off. The powdered sugar got EVERYWHERE — it’s still on the passenger seat in my car — meaning it’s also all over me. Have to look nice otherwise, I guess, right? Even if my teeth are awful? 

Eventually, a tiny lady with a thick accent leads me into the room. She’s the tech and is to prep me. 

Tech: “Okay, please have a seat. You can put your jacket on the bench over there.”

Me: “I’m so sorry if I look like I’m dusty. I just had a Paczki on the way here.”

The tech eyes me strangely for a moment and then bursts out laughing.

Tech: “That’s right! It’s Paczki Day! I have to get one later.”

As the tech is busying herself with prep, I try to make polite conversation. (I’m anxious, breakfast was that Paczki, and I’ve never had this kind of work done before!) 

Me: “How many of these procedures do you do a day?”

Tech: “How many of what you’re getting? I mean, we do just about everything every day. Sweetheart, don’t worry. Yours will be forty minutes. Forty-five, tops.”

Me: “Wait, seriously?”

Tech: “We’re only doing one tooth today, right? You’ll be fine. In fact, think about Paczki!”

She pats my shoulder and winks at me. 

In the middle of the work, I have to stop them so I can swallow. As I’m doing so, I motion to the tech. 

Me: “I’ hryink whoo hink ahou’ hasskeys!”

Endodontist: “…suction?”

Me: “Oh, oh, hasskeys!”

Endodontist: “What?”

Tech: “You want to think about… Paczkis?!”

She loses her cool for a second and laughs, leaving the doctor bewildered and a little upset that he had to stop work. 

As I’m leaving when it’s over and chatting with the tech again (who tells me that once the novocaine wears off, it’ll be very painful), just before she leaves…

Tech: *Triumphantly* “Now I’m going to get a Paczki!”

Me: *Laughing* “Enjoy!”

It was VERY painful when the novocaine wore off, but remembering this helped me to forget it!

I’m fifteen years old. Last week, I had an orthodontist appointment. I decided to watch some Netflix while I waited for my name to be called; I started watching “Schitt’s Creek”.

A few minutes later, I noticed this middle-aged lady with blonde frizzy hair just looking at me in this weird way. Sitting next to her was a boy who looked about eleven years old and a girl who looked around four years old. I kind of looked up at them, and the woman gave me this weird smile. (She should have been wearing a mask as they are required in the waiting room.)

Lady: “Kids, go along and see what that girl is doing with her phone.”

I was really weirded out but, of course, I didn’t do anything. The kids got close — less than a foot away from me, and neither was wearing a mask. I was uncomfortable.

Me: *To the lady* “Can you please tell your kids to back off? They are way too close.”

The kids just got closer and started staring at my phone screen. At that point, I was so annoyed that I just turned off my phone, thinking they’d go away.

Nope. The mom saw and YELLED at me:

Lady: “Let my kids watch a show!”

Me: “No. I don’t want them to watch shows on my phone.”

She did not like this. She walked over to me, grabbed my phone from my hand, and started demanding the password — which, of course, I did not tell her.

At that point, my name was called. I grabbed my phone back and left the waiting room to go get my braces adjusted.

About fifteen minutes later, the eleven-year-old came and sat down on the orthodontist chair next to me — he too had braces — and he actually apologized for his mom. Honestly, I was surprised.

It’s 1995, and I’m working at a cheese store in a touristy Midwestern city. I am a bald white man with a preference for dark colors. It has been a tough week. Some dental work has failed, so I am without my three front upper teeth for the next week until the new bridge is made. I am trying hard not to smile.

A local has been browsing our postcards. She selects a pile about an inch and a half thick and just walks out with them.

I follow.

Me: “Excuse me. You need to pay for those.”

Customer: “Deese be free.”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “You be a cheese store. Deese be free.”

I laughed with a full toothless skinhead-looking smile. She was startled. I reached over, plucked the postcards out of her hand, and returned to the store.

I tried really hard not to smile at people until my dentist installed the new bridge.