There's a dead end street behind the street where I grew up. In my dream world, it continues on and leads to undiscovered parts of my home town, usually with visually stunning sights. My parents drive me down that street (on the edge of a huge body of water) to the dentist. I wonder why I am going to a children's dentist, but I am assured by my mother that my grandmother goes to him with great results. The office seems frozen in the late 70's with shag carpeting, door beads, and all of the children's books and toys in the waiting room are surprisingly well preserved relics. My vintage shopper eyes scan the room, sensing an untapped eBay treasure trove.
In the playroom, I show my mom some the books that I remember from my childhood. There's a book about a chicken that I liked. There's also a book with these scary children on the back cover. Their eyes glow red when you tilt the book. I shiver as I remember how much that book used to disturb me.
In the receptionist's room, there are the original drawings to some of the Curious George books sitting in page protectors, with thanks to the dentist from the secretaries of the book publisher. I am interested to find out that the books were published just down the street from the dentist's office. I start to wonder what other interesting things happened on this street. I see a salesman-of-the-year award from the early 60's sitting in a dusty magazine bin.
I step out for a bit and check out the street. It looks like a dusty and grainy Route 66 in the 50's, with a couple of ferris wheels thrown in for good measure. I'm wearing glasses that are also a digital camera. I press the button near my right temple to capture the shot, but the button isn't engaging and I lose the picture. The wind blows and the scene melts away.
I go back to the dentist's office. As I suspected, I need to get several teeth removed. It'll be several hours before the dentist can do the procedure, so I'm advised to go get lunch first.
I walk around the back of the office building to a strip mall composed of many restaurants. I peruse many options: a pie shop offering apple pie and chicken pot pie. I don't know why but I turn this one down. After going in and out of numerous barbeque joints, I settle on a buffet offering macaroni and cheese and fried chicken for $14.05. When it comes time to pay, I don't have the funds. I say that I was a gymnast in training for the '08 Olympics, but I broke my leg and can't compete. I look down and see that I have a cast on my leg. The manager says he doesn't believe me. I take a flying leap, broken leg first through the shop window to escape and continue flying back to the dentist. I realize that I've left my wheelchair behind, but I can't go back for it.
Back at the dentist's waiting room, I begin playing a
Mystery Date type game. This one is life-sized, though, and it requires me to go through a maze of rooms, sort of
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure style. I choose the wrong path and it leads me to a room with a bloody bathtub, a torn strand of pearls, and a soaking-wet prom dress hanging on the shower rod. I scream and can't go back through the same set of doors. I bang and bang on the doors until the dentist's receptionist pulls open the door. I realize that I'm in the coat closet of the waiting room.
Boy, do I feel silly. I worry that I won't be able to pay for having my teeth pulled. The receptionist winks at me and says that everything has already been arranged.
