I left "...of Doom" from the end of the title because it would be a little redundant.
Actually, my first dentist visit in years went well. (Well, technically, second visit. I had one two weeks ago so the dentist could jot down a list of everything that needed done, chuckling gleefully as he pulled out "the really big calculator" to add up the price tag.)
The dentist filled three cavities today, and will fill another two next week, while his assistant did a thorough (read: painful) cleaning of some tartar buildup. I can't really complain since it needed done, and it was fortuitous how our appointment was arranged.
A woman in my mom's home-school group sent out an email asking if anyone would like to trade massages for some dental work here in Draper. My mom forward the email to me, and since Child and I needed some dental work down, we responded to the email. Apparently quite a few people were interested, but we were the closest people so we got selected. (Lucky break? Or result of paying tithing? You be the judge... DUN DUN DUN!!!)
Anyway, interestingly, it turns out the dentist (an older, graying gentleman) was also a canyoneer! Two weeks ago he did a canyon that my friends and I are considering doing in a couple weeks. We talked about a few canyons, then he showed me an online video of him going through a canyon. "This is me...this is my son...this is a sort of odd guy we invited along..."
I looked closer at the "odd guy." "Is that John Smith?" I asked, and the dentist laughed.
"So you know him too."
I did. He kind of attached himself to our group, and had gone through a few canyons with us before we (as kindly as possible) extracted ourself from the relationship, mostly because he, well, complained a lot. Maybe that was just his personality, I don't know, but it got old after a while.