The Dentist Who Talked Too Much

Gustavo had the first appointment of the day, at 8:20. He only needed a quick cleaning, and he wanted to be at work by nine. "Twenty minutes," he told himself in the waiting room. "No problem."

Dr. Mbeki was a friendly man with a big laugh. He put a paper bib on Gustavo, turned on a bright light and said, "Open wide, please." Then he put a small mirror and a metal hook in Gustavo's mouth, and he started to talk.

"So, do you floss every day?" he asked.

Gustavo didn't floss every day. He flossed when he remembered, maybe once a month. But with a mirror and a hook in his mouth, he could only say, "Mmh."

"Excellent!" said Dr. Mbeki. "Do you drink a lot of coffee?"

"Mmh," said Gustavo. He meant "a little."

"Do you like football? Are you going to watch the big game on Saturday? Is your family from here?" The questions came one after another, faster than the water from the little tube. Gustavo answered all of them in the same way: "Mmh." Sometimes he tried to shake his head, but the dentist was holding his chin.

At 8:55, Dr. Mbeki turned off the light. "Your teeth look good, but we can make them better," he said. "Shall I see you again next month? And in March? And in May, just to be safe?"

Gustavo still had cotton in both cheeks. "Mmh," he said, and he meant "No, thank you."

At the front desk, the receptionist gave him a small card with a smile. On it there were three new dates, all at 8:20 in the morning. "Dr. Mbeki says you love early appointments," she said.