The Man Who Wasn't There

Though I may come across as a communicator here, in person I don’t have much to say. Blather bothers me, yet sometimes I feel uncomfortable with the silence I create. I recently had a dental appointment to get my teeth cleaned. I don’t like a lot of conversation when I am a captive and unable to speak. It is the age old joke of having a mouth filled with instruments and the dentist or hygienist wants to have a conversation with you.

Even when the instruments have been removed I never feel like talking. It occurred to me that I must seem like the Man Who Wasn’t There. I could see my lack of conversation was bothering my hygienist. I was expressionless, uncommunicative and unemotional, though I was having a good time inside my head. I was enjoying the view of the river and listening to the sounds being created in the office. I ask myself questions like: There is always music being played in dental offices, yet why do they always have a crappy sound system and speakers? I was making catty remarks in my head about the voice of the woman in the next operatory. I wondered why a dental assistant would wear shoes that squeaked so much in a room with those sorts of acoustics.

It’s interesting to me that The Man Who Wasn’t There on the exterior had a party going on inside his head. It probably would have amused my hygienist as well had I only let her in, but that would be too much like blather.