The Chair

My mouth is numb. Drool spills out of the corner of my mouth while my husband stands over me with a drill in his hand.

"Raise your hand if there's pain," he says in a gentle voice. I'm always in pain in the chair so I raise my hand.

"We haven't started yet," he says shaking his head. He knows I'm fucking with him.

Did I mention I hate going to the dentist but my husband Adrian, a dentist, cajoles me into regular visits. I am a horrible patient.

I get anxious and my heart pounds as soon as I sit in the chair. It doesn't matter that I trust Adrian. It doesn't matter that I know he knows what he is doing. He's a guy with a drill in my mouth.

Working on me is likewise hard on Adrian. "You're the worst patient," he always says when he gets home.

He's lucky I come in at all.

Earlier, when I sat down in the chair he told me to relax and open wide. I wanted to make a dirty joke but restrained myself. Instead, I asked him if he had noise canceling headphones. I know he doesn't. To further annoy him, I proceeded to make fun of his music. In response, Adrian made a face and took a needle and pierced my gums.

Fuck that hurt, I thought to myself as I raised my hand and muttered, "This is going in the story."