Abused Molars and Magazines

Speaking of modern etiquette, how rude is it, while sitting in a dentist’s chair, to remove an iPhone from your pocket when the device pings with a text? Beyond the pale is my answer, worse than quietly talking during a movie or barking at a cabbie when he makes a wrong turn. It’s like an itch, though, I’m embarrassed to admit, and the other day while hygienist Valerie was poking around in my mouth, I heard that sound and it took considerable restraint not to find out what the message was. What a screwed-up world. As it turned out, when released from the bondage of dentistry I learned that one of my sons was texting to say he had the flu—and he’s Mr. Flu Shot!—and barfed nine times the night before. Not exactly breaking news, but somewhat disturbing, although I’m glad I waited to retrieve the two sentences. Never mind that one is supposed to turn off cells when in any doctor’s office, for I believe obeying that rule went out the window at least two years ago.