“Gar-A Firm-gah One-ah” I said.
“What was that?” she clarified.
“I brush with a firm toothbrush, why do you ask?”
“Because, I can tell by your teeth.” she said as she gave me the saliva-sucker tool.
The tool rang with a QUUUUUUUUUU and ended with a POP!
“What is your favorite car, Patrick?” she asked.
“An Aston Martin DBS . . . the James Bond car.” I replied.
“Okay, so imagine that Bond car in your driveway.”
“Awesome” I muttered.
“And you are about to wash it.”
“Okay, I’m following.” I said as my eyes closed, dreaming it through.
A gun metal gray Aston is sitting in the drive, top up, engine still hot after a cruise through town. Bucket of soap suds sitting next to it. I plunge my hand in to grab the . . .
“Now, you take a swab of steel wool and begin to rub it down.”
My eyes flare open as I shoot up from the reclined dental chair.
“WHAT! NO!” I exclaimed.
“Haha, well that is exactly what you are doing to your pearly whites!” she responded.
“Oh, okay. I get it. Steel wool to an Aston or teeth is never good.”
“Now how about brushing with a softer brush?” she asked.
“Yeah, just like cotton a rag on an Aston Martin.” I agreed as I slipped back to my Aston in the drive.
“Just like that that. Now how about flossing?”
“OH NO!” I yelled as the Aston crashed into a power line pole.