Make 'Em Shiny and New!

Don't be jealous, nice people. I know how you get. The whole grass is always greener in Sherman Oaks thing. It really isn't. But fine. Go ahead, be jealous of me and filled with envy, if that's how you roll on this Monday mourn, because I get to schlep to the dentist and have my teeth spruced up, and you don't.  "Make 'em shine," I plan to say. "Make 'em shiny and new." To which the very low-key, blunt hygienist with a name I've been successfully mispronouncing for about 10 years now, will reply, "What are you, crazy?" She knows me so well, sometimes, it's eerie. "Crazy, in what sense?" I plan to ask. "Crazy if you think I can make these old teeth of yours look shiny and new. I'm just trying to make them look okay." "Well then, do that." "Have you been flossing?" she'll ask. "Have I been flossing? Dear God in heaven, you know I've been flossing. Flossing is one of the few things I believe in." "Okay, okay, don't get so sensitive," she'll say.  "But you know how dainty my gums are." "I know." "Did you numb them?" "Yes, I numbed them, silly one." "Then let's get cracking, Pardol." "It's Pargol." "No, it isn't." "Only my whole life." "Let's get cracking, Pargol. I've got a day."