The Bizniss

Dental Care! …. Lisa Needs Braces!

I'm not one of those people who hate dentists. I actually, nerdy as it is, enjoy knowing that my teeth are the cleanest they can get. I may also get some joy out of people telling me how nice my teeth are.

“You're teeth are beautiful!”

“Teehee, right?”

My last dentist, though, was the worst. I normally wouldn't name a company, but this place was so awful that I feel it is an obligation to warn anyone living in Chicago to never, ever, ever get back together with Wrigleyville Dental. They will take all your money and break your teeth.

The first time I went in they told me that my whole mouth was on the verge of being sucked into a black hole of a cavity that would tear a hole in the space-time continuum and cause a zombie apocalypse. Needless to say I freaked out, and three meetings later and 1200 dollars lighter, I had a crown.

I didn't really think anything of this until I went back in for a cleaning. I mean... Cleanings aren't supposed to be that much, especially if you have insurance. So I went in and the lady proceeded to take roughly 3700 X-rays.

“Okay, move this here” ~X-ray~ “And here” ~X-ray~ “And here” ~X-ray~ “And here and here and here and here” ~Sound of Tedd getting cancer~

After soaking up enough radiation to turn into the Incredible Hulk, the dentist came in. He looked at the new wall mural of X-rays and deduced that I need two fillings and, for good measure, they should tear out an old filling... Because?... So, I think to myself, “Well, fillings with insurance are like...what?...$75 bucks?”

I get up to the front and the receptionist is smiling. “Let's get you scheduled for your fillings.” She smiled brightly and pulled out an invoice. “These are the estimates!”

My eyebrows almost busted through the roof. 1200 dollars... For three fillings. “And with insurance... The lady said, you'll save about $500.”

I could barely see straight. “$700?!” I asked. The lady nodded. At this point I still believed that she had some parts of her that were still human, so I said, “Well, let's schedule the two I need and then do the refill later.”

It's hard to believe, but it was like all of a sudden the lights dimmed and the walls started bleeding. The sweet lady in front of me transformed into a vampire-like creature. “ALL OF THESE ARE NECESSARY! YOU SHOULD SCHEDULE THEM AAAAALLLLLL!!!”

Suddenly the lights flickered back on and the tiny Asian woman was back to her normal form.

Needless to say I never went back there. The vampire still calls though... Wanting her toothy tribute.

Today, though, I went to a new dentist.

The head doctor could easily be a bond villain. She's got a thick accent and could probably bench press a mid-sized sedan. After the hygienist had taken 16 X-Rays – I counted...it was literally 16 – she came in and sat down.

“Hello, my darling. How are you?”

“Good.”

“Good, great, good.”

She then proceeded to recklessly and mercilessly clean my teeth. 10 minutes. That was the length of the cleaning. Then she picked up my X-rays and said, “Let's keep an eye on this one, my pet. Be careful brushing. Take your time.”

She then wheeled out of the room and disappeared.

The total cost of this visit was $0. Somewhere, five miles south in Wrigley, I heard the bray of a vampire mourning the loss of a regular cleaning that they would have gotten $200 for.

Bizniss

My new job has me working graduate admissions at a business school. I mean, you hear a lot of jokes about how corporate people discuss things, but you really can't even imagine it until you see it in action.

One afternoon my boss and I went to a meeting. My boss asked one of the people in the meeting, “So, did you figure out the online chat stuff?”

Her response: “Well, I'm meeting with Dr. Jones this week, and Wednesday Julie and I are meeting to discuss the content for the slides. Then we'll connect with Jack to see about whether we should include the additional content about registration. Sometime next week we'll sit down with Dr. Johnson to figure out his participation, then we can set up a meeting for Tuesday to discuss the full proposal.”

In my head I couldn't help but count the number of “reach outs,” “meetings,” and “discussions” this whole process was taking. Couldn't it be covered in an email? I mean, I know it's not cool, but can you pick up a telephone? Or Facetime on an iPad? Is that cooler? I mean, I don't know, I don't use my work iPad for anything other than reading free books on. I hear it does other stuff.

The online chat for new students was slowly, and through about 47 meetings, finally set up. We finally set up a practice meeting to run through the slides. My coworker in admissions and I kept messaging each other, because, inevitably, what was supposed to be a practice chat evolved into... what else? A meeting.

We totes got businessed – I typed in the messenger.

At two points I guffawed sitting at home on my computer. One was when, for the third time, the discussion of who would click the slides to move along the presentation came up.

“I mean, I just really thing we should discuss who should move the slides.”

Five minutes later: “Can we get back to talking about who is going to click the slides.”

Then finally, someone who hadn't said anything during the whole web conference, put on the mic and is like, “I'm sorry, I think we should discuss the slides and who will move them.”

Giant laugh 1.

The second was when one of the people at the business school put on the webcam to test it out. In theory, it seems like a good idea to have the face-to-face interaction. It makes Tedd laugh so hard he starts crying, though, when you see that the person in question is awkwardly sitting in their bedroom talking about a business program. What would people think?

“We are a reputable program, oh, and that is my wife sleeping to the left of your screen.”

Oh, work! You're just... Just...

I'm Bad at Therapy

This next story is short, but it made feel really terrible about myself.

I started seeing a counselor about two months ago. <= Girl's got some issues.

Anyway, the other day, we got to the end of a session and my counselor looked at the clock. “Oh wow,” he said, “that actually went fast this time.”

I couldn't help but think that if I were really neurotic, this would have destroyed some or all of self-confidence. The subtext is obviously, “Gawd, your sessions are so drawn out. Why can't you be crazier and more interesting?”

Whatever. We can set up a meeting to discuss it later, then reach out to discuss it with Tiffany and Jerry on Tuesday. As long as we know who's moving the slides everything else will work out.