Recently, I made an appointment see a new dentist. Since it was my first visit to their office, they requested that I show up ten minutes early to fill out some paperwork before my exam. Which was fine with me because it’s not like I was planning on sticking around very long after my exam, when I’d be numb on one side of my face and drooling like a 12 year-old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. No, I like to TC of my B before they fire up the drills.
The day of my appointment, I showed up to the office and a really nice receptionist with glow-in-the-dark teeth handed me a clipboard full of forms and instructed me to, “Fill this one out, not this one, sign here, initial there, read this, complete this and don’t even bother with the blue piece of paper because it’s just something the state makes us show you or we’ll get in trouble.”
The first form started out fairly easily–first name: Wendi. Last name: Aarons. Middle Name: Lea. Yep, we were on a roll, my cheap, plastic pen and I. Then came the next question on the page: Name You’d Like Us To Call You. Oh, baby. Lifting my pen, I sat there a few minutes staring at the page, both completely stunned and somewhat thrilled by the door that had suddenly opened up for me. “Name You’d Like Us To Call You.” Hmmm. While I knew this was meant for people who had nicknames like “Butch” or “Junior”, my mind still started racing. I mean, nobody knew me at this dental office, so that meant I could put down nearly any name I’d like to be called, right? The dental hygienists didn’t have to know that I was just a boring, suburban mother who lied about flossing. As far as they knew, I was an exciting, international playgirl spy who lied about flossing.
I looked at the blank line again and wondered if I should take the easy route and write down, “I don’t care WHAT you call me, just as long as you call me, Mr. Dentist.” Or should I instead just throw balls to the wall and go exotic by putting down something like “Peaches?” Or “Herb?” Or “DJ Honky Ass White Girl?” Then again, I could even bestow upon myself a regal title, like “Princess Lulu of Abilene.” “Countess Boobala.” “Lola Falana.” My hands shook in excitement as I imagined myself at the next PTA meeting, walking up to someone and saying, “Hi, my name’s Wendi. But everyone at my dentist’s office calls me The Queen Of Reggae Mayhem.” Oh, man, was this awesome.
Then just when I was considering whether or not I should put down that I’d like to be called “Miss Jackson, if you’re nasty”, the receptionist opened up her frosted glass window and jarred me out of my reverie by asking, “Are you done with your forms yet, Mrs. Aarons?” I shook my head, then quickly filled out the rest of the pages and handed them in to her. A few minutes later, the door to the back room opened and a pleasant dental assistant called for me.
“Hi, I’m Phyllis,” she said. “How are you today?”
“Good,” I replied.
“That’s great,” she answered, leading me into an exam room and sitting me in the dentist’s chair. “Just wait here for a few minutes and the doctor will be right in. And be sure to let me know if you need anything else, OK, Wendi?”
“Sure,” I said. “And by the way–feel free to call me Mrs. Clooney.”
Goodness, that question does open up the possibilities, doesn’t it.
Oh, does that mean “Mrs. Pitt” is still available?
*Laughing* It offers tremendous scope for the imagination! Mrs. Clooney is good, though D.J. Honky Ass White Girl was my personal favorite.
At least my being weird on my first appointment prepared the staff for how weird I was after my oral surgery when the gas wore off…
I guess ‘Crotch Rocket Hot Mama’ was out of the question, too.
As always, hilarious.
Well I have been away for a few; but i enjoyed catching up on your last 3 hilarious posts…thanks Ms Clooney!
Rosemary?
Mrs. Clooney:
I loved the TC of my B! You make me laugh, and I abhor anything related to dentists!
By chance, are you familiar with Miss Molly and the Whips? Because I think that should be your dental patient name.
Love it! Sounds like something I might do as long as the doctor wasn’t drop dead gorgeous. Then I would be Mrs. bdabdabda.
Even from far away you can put a smile on my face and make me laugh here by myself! That was great!
Hmm, I’d be wavering between Mrs. Springsteen and “her ladyship” (a friend from England referred to his wife that way this past weekend and I nearly swooned. Now I’m trying to convince my husband to use the term for me).
What should you do if you have a bout of schizophrenia….If you see me in mismatched socks please call me Lou, if I am licking my paws than I respond best to SIT Fido, and if its about the bill you might try calling me Ida Poor.
I freakin LOVE YOU. Always a good laugh no matter how crappy the day.
You’re the best.
I think I would like to be known as the “Crazy Bitch w/too many kids, not enough money, too much cellulite, and apparently not enough gray hair!” Do you suppose the upstanding citizens of the professional world will allow it?
This reminded me of the movie A Thousand Clowns with Jason Robards. He plays an unconventional single dad who tells his kid that he can experiment with any names he wants, but on his thirteenth birthday, he’ll have to pick one to use from then on. He was the only kid registered in the Cub Scouts as Dr. Morris Fishbein.
You told me I was the only one who could call you “Countess Boobala.” I feel so cheap…
Actually, I wanted to correct something, “Crazy Bitch w/too many kids, not enough money, too much cellulite, and apparently not enough gray hair!” is my real identity! I would like to be known as Princess Lula Belle of Happy Town! I think it suits me much better than my true identity does, right Sadie?
ROFL! I sometimes refer to myself as Mrs. Clooney!
Why wouldn’t you write Sarah Palin?
You are funny girl!
Reminded me of the ‘Friends’ episode when Phoebe changes her name to Princess Consuela Bananahammock. Too funny!
Just don’t call me late for dinner.
New to your blog… quite catchy.
Perhaps you didn’t get the memo Wendi. That is why we have blogs. So we can choose any alias we want.
Oh Man! I never considered renaming myself on those forms until now. You are a genius!
In college, the profs would always call role the first class and come across “Elizabeth.” Apparently this moniker is widely accepted as nothing but a smoke screen for other names. I always had to answer the question “what do you go by?” 5 or six times a semester. Although it hadn’t registered, apparently I was harboring a grudge toward all these so-called, open-minded PhDs and there wild assumptions about the name my mother gave me. In the first class of my Junior year, I responded to the whaddayagoby? with “Janie.” It suprised me as much as anyone else, but I ran with it and chose a different alias for each class. Napoleon was my personal favorite.
Elizabutt aka Elizabeth
Thank you.