Add to that my twice weekly dentist appointment with Dr Hovestat to work on my caps (or crowns). He had been my grandmother Frieda's dentist, and also my mother's dentist when she was a child. He was very tall and very old. He walked stooped over. His office was in a brownstone in downtown Boston and was carpeted throughout. He would walk slowly over to his tray and get a pick, then walk slowly back to the chair, the whole time dragging his feet on the carpet. As soon as he would touch me with the pick, electric static sparks would fly.
It was the first time I ever misbehaved at the dentist. The dental work was bad enough, but knowing I was about to be shocked every time he approached was just too much. One day I said no. I told my mother if she ever took me back, I was going to kick him.
Apparently she believed me because we found another dentist.