Velouria (velouria) wrote,

You're never fully dressed without a smile.

I've decided to get braces. Mostly because I've also decided to take my HORRIBLE wisdom teeth out. And I figure if someone is going to knock me out and rip my gums open, they might as well fasten metal wires into my mouth so I can't eat anything for the next three years. Kill two birds with one stone, you know. I can still drink vodka, right?

So I go looking for a dentist today with my government insurance, and apparently it's an HMO, which means the government has already lorded over what dentist I can have. And they've picked "Guy Smiley Dentistry" or something. That's fine. Everyone knows I love to let life walk all over me. Except it's not fine in this case, because all of the Guy Smiley dentists are located in Stockton for some reason, which is approximately 950 cows south of here.

So I call them up and ask to be appointed to Count Chocula Dentistry, which is only a couple cows away from my place of residence. First the chick argues with me about the pros of Guy Smiley Dentistry for 20 minutes, and when we finally reach consensus that I should not have to drive 2 hours to get to my dentist, I ask her if they still have me listed as a male born on the wrong day of the wrong month of the wrong year somewhere in Australia, as all of my insurance documents do because of some incompetent bastard in Personnel. There's a long, awkward pause.

"It says you're female now."

"Okay. Good. That's accurate."

As I hung up, it occurred to me that she probably thinks I'm post-sex change, or even pre. It doesn't help that I sound like a dude.
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