I had a real L.A. moment today. A freaky, creepy moment. Maybe I'm too old. Maybe I'm too midwestern. Or maybe it's just..I dunno...that I'm normal? I was at the dentist's office. My new dentist. My new L.A. dentist. I had gotten a referral from my Chicago dentist for a dentist here. Unfortunately, between the time I got the referral and the time I called him, he had passed away. His wife was nice enough to call me back and refer me to the dentist she was going to be using. So I filled out all the forms, had x-rays taken, and was sitting in the chair when the dentist came in. We exchanged pleasantries and he said, "now I'm going to put my hands in your mouth." My first thought was "without even buying me dinner first?" but I was soon distracted by what he said next. "Have you heard about the "blah-blah lift" we offer here? A non-invasive face lift?" "Please!" I stopped him. "Don't depress me." "Maybe for a friend, or your mother," he backtracked. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall had he had my mother in the chair. "Look," he went on. "Here's my face with the lift." Then he covered his mouth and two clear plastic curved things emerged from his mouth. "Here's my face without. It takes off about 5 years." "I think you look great either way," I managed to say. Honestly, I didn't see much of a difference. I didn't say what I wanted to say. After all, he has a drill and he knows how to use it. What I wanted to say was, "Are you f-ing kidding me? Just clean my teeth and let me outta here." You walk around holding plastic in your mouth and who knows where else all day and only go back to 2002? You'd get my attention if you said 1997, but 2002? Come on. The rest of the exam concluded uneventfully, except for encouraging me to get Invisalign, a 3/4 reverse crown or some such mumbo-jumbo, and a sealant for my wisdom teeth. In the good old days a dentist would have lulled you into a false sense of security and postponed the hard-sell til the second visit. Everything moves faster now, I guess. Especially the cost of office space in 90210. I feel lucky to have gotten out of there with my wallet, my 2007 face, and my midwestern brain intact.