Most people hate going to the dentist, but I always look forward to it. Of course, this is probably not a surprise to the people who know me, since my preferences trend outside the mainstream. (My brother Jeremy once said to me, “Carla, your ‘cute’ is everyone else’s ‘daaaaaaaaaaaaang’!”) In this case, though, I have a good reason to like my dentist: She is also my friend.
I’ve known Kelley since I was six years old, back when her father was my dentist and she and I were first-grade classmates. Back in the day, I liked going to her father’s office (now her office) because there was a TV with cable in the waiting room, and I could watch videos. These days, I like going because I get a chance to catch up with my girl. So yesterday, I hopped on the 7 and headed down to Kelley’s clinic.
The best thing about the 7 is that there’s always one coming. No need to check a schedule; just head to a stop, and you’re almost guaranteed to be on one within 10 minutes. This level of frequency is infuriating when you’re waiting for another bus–when you might see four 7s (and about 400 36s) before you see yours–so it’s nice to be able to take advantage once in a while. The worst thing about the 7 is the old-school style of coach that usually runs that route. These are the same buses I rode when I was a kid–in fact, I think they were around back when I first met Kelley–and while I’m all for Metro getting our tax dollars’ worth out of the vehicles that are still running, I can’t say I enjoy the ride. In fact when I’m on a 7, I can’t really say anything; those dang things are much too loud for conversation.