What white knight incites pain and fear and is always armed with pointed weapons?

The willing victim enters the stainless steel den and is lulled into a relax state by being invited to recline on a comfortable chair, but then the spotlight hits you dead in the eyes and the 70 and ’80’s soundtrack is invaded by the sound of sharp instruments scrapping enamel.

Oh sweet Jesus, this isn’t purgatory, it’s the dentist office.

You turn into a mouth breather, drooling is uncontrollable, the white paper bib damp with sweat, the stench of past meals emanate from your pie hole and just like being on a plane in bad weather, you grip the arm rest and lie in wait of when the turbulence will strike.

The armed man, cloaked in white, lifts his pointed, sleek weapon from the tray and starts digging and scrapping and poking and prodding.

Fear invades your brain…eyes are squeezed shut, hands are tightly clasped and turning white, toes scrunched up in your shoes. When will he hit a nerve…body tenses to stave off the expected bolt of pain. Root canal, crown, cavity? You nervously await the diagnosis.

Is there anything good about foreplay in the dentist chair…why hasn’t anyone invented soft tools or soundless drills? Why does it always sound like tree limbs scratching at the window during a violent, torrential rainstorm?

45 minutes in and the noise mercifully subsides. The brushing  tastes of sweet liberation, the flossing a good pain…rinse and the tempest is over.

Thankfully, you have a 6 month reprieve until the next nerve wracking cleaning.