Don’t You Love Your Dentist?
She reaches under the desk, lifts a bottle with something small and dark inside. It moves.
“There are many options for payment,” she says as I sit down. “We accept insurance, as long as it’s PPO. No state insurance or HMO plans.”
“I don’t have insurance,” I mumble through the bloody gauze. Whatever they did in there is starting to ache.
Her voice is brittle and sharp as glass against skin. “We take financial responsibility seriously.” She reaches under the desk, lifts a bottle with something small and dark inside. It moves.
“Of course, we can always put it back…”
“No!”
Her smile widens like a gash across her face. “Credit cards are, of course, preferred.”
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