I had to go to the dentist today. I know everyone hates the dentist, but the questions about what I do and where I went to school were hardly necessary, especially from someone I only see because I absolutely have to, someone whose job it is to jam foreign metal objects into my mouth, and someone who I know really doesn't care about my answers. For most rational people, the fact that I had a very limited response to his inane questions would have been a clue that I wasn't interested in conversation, but this guy seemed to take it as a challenge. People have been doing that to me all my life, trying to draw me out. And unless I see that they're sincerely trying to get to know me because they like me as a person, and not just attempting to open my closed exterior, it's never worked. I'm not suddenly going to turn into a chatterbox just because you ask me a few questions if I have no interest in talking to you. I don't want my dentist to be my friend. I just want them to do their job and leave me alone. I'm only there out of necessity, and I hate it, and the idle chatter does nothing but heighten my resentment, which makes me even more uncomfortable. And I have to go back next week to have a cavity filled. Call me pessimistic, but I doubt that this overly friendly dentist will have learned anything from his previous failed attempts at small talk. Who actually likes being asked personal questions while they're being probed by sharp metal objects?
Now that I've vented about that evil necessity known as the dentist, I can't wait for Bound this Friday. Horror movie night on Friday the 13th. Should be a good one. There are some great bands playing, and I finally get to see DJ Medic in action, since I missed him the last time he came to Bound. You'll probably see me on the dance floor or screaming while bent over or chained and getting a good beating. On Saturday I'll be at Entre Nous to wish Todd a happy birthday. This weekend's events will be the perfect thing to get the taste of intrusive probing out of my mouth.