(NB I'm back in London this week)
So I had to get an emergency appointment for the tooth. the molar at the back. The Abesol I bought in the US worked once to numb it and then I found it useless after that application. A kind and grentle dentist in the UK extracted the nerve and a few pounds less than it would have cost in New York.
I realised how much I had changed when I talked to the woman behind the desk. You come to expect everybody in the customer front line to smile and be nice to you when you enter a store or a bank or a hotel and so on. They ask how you are - you ask how they are. They respond well when you ask them a question. We all smile. It's all very superficial but it's all rather nice.
So I walked into the denitst's reception on Falcon Road, Clapham Junctn and immediately ask how she was? Of course she eyes me as a looney and asks me what I want.
My dentist visit turned out to involve three sessions downstairs in the dental dungeon. After the first session I went back to the reception to wait for X-rays. I asked the receptionist (as she filed some papers) how much I should expect to pay when she got the chance. She didn't reply, continued to finish filing and then gave a questioning glance. I asked her again about the expected cost and she told me that's what they call 'An Estimate'.
Oh, i see....
I retired to the seats waiting for her to run one off and she shouted across 'you have to pay today, you know'. As I waited for the dentist to call me I got nervous at the idea of drilling. I got a cup of water from the fountain ('For customers only - aged 10 and above' the sign read). As I finished the cup I was called back down to the dentist room. I couldn't see a bin so I put the cup on the receptionists desk and asked if i could leave this here. She got up and moved herself before me and sullenly picked up the cup and dropped the cup in a tiny bin that I hadn't quite caught. I kindly apologised for not seeing it - she blanked me. As I walked down the stairs I realised that I was talking to her as if she was an American - and she thought I was a toffee nosed w*nker as a result.
There was only one thing to do when I came back up stairs. Continue to act the same way for the rest of my visit.... she was glad to see the back of me.
Posted by Guy Brighton on November 17, 2003 at 06:48 AM
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