Dear Dentist Office Receptionist

Dear Secretary of the shitty Dentist I used because I thought the idiot patients giving assessments of quality on the internet were sincere, or real people. To start, not every sentence needs an upward inflection at the end. Just wanted to throw that out there. Die. Also, don’t smile if you don’t mean it. Creepy dead eye smile is worse than not smiling at all. You know what’s worse than having to go to the dentist? Having to go to the dentist where the joker is the receptionist. The Joker if he were a middle-aged woman with dead eyes and no sense of humour. Die. Also don’t fucking hem and haw about how much the insurance will cover and if I need a payment plan. Just fucking say it, ‘this is how much you owe, how much will your insurance cover, how would you like to pay the balance?’ Done. See that? Problem solver. Who wants me on their corporate team? And when the bill comes out to 200 dollars don’t make the wincy face and whisper if I would like to pay it in three instalments. Yeah, I’m wearing a leather jacket and long-sleeve van halen shirt with a hole in it dangerously close to the nipple. What of it? That means I can’t afford a 200 dollar bill? Perhaps pulling out all 5 dollar bills and crumpling each one up and throwing them one after the other at your feet while listing off your physical flaws ranked by severity (leaky eye for one) was a bit over the top, but I wanted to remind you of your younger days on the corner of St. Cat’s and Pine. What’s that? You filed the insurance reimbursement form wrong and now I have to pay the balance of 900 dollars cause you’re retarded? AWESOME. Hey remember when I told you how to do it correctly, and you said you got it, and that you did it all the time and not to worry? I do. I remember it wicked well. Guess who’s going to have their identity revenge-stolen? You are! Hooray! Well done.