…continued from here…

“I’ll start by saying I’ve never been to a psychiatrist before. I know you told me I should just talk, but feel free to interject any time. No? All right then. I’ll go ahead.

“I think part of why I’ve chased away three patients this week is my enthusiasm for my job. I love dentistry. There’s nothing quite like getting right in there with my instruments and rearranging people’s smiles. Did you know one time I removed all of a lady’s teeth–bad gums, she had to have them out–and then instead of giving her dentures, I kept them and sewed them all back in a week later? She would have been happy, except I got mixed up and put the top ones on the bottom and the bottom ones on the top. Well, I was excited. She just couldn’t see the beauty in it.

“I should probably mention that I may have lost a patient or two this week because I no longer have an assistant. Terrible thing happened. She died on the job. Accidentally slit her femoral artery when a man whose teeth she was cleaning swatted her hand away. I might have been able to stop the bleeding, except my secretary was off and I was waiting for the last patient’s credit card to go through.

“Ah, the life of a dentist. You must hear stories like this all the time…”

…continued here…