Bar talk and accidents

Accident 1
I discovered on Sunday afternoon that the human body is not designed to head-butt inanimate objects.
In my case, the immovable object with which I shared my irresistible force was a garage wall.
My weekend was consumed by a house move, the second in 15 months, and once again I was astonished by just how much “stuff” we accumulate nowadays – our necessities of daily living seem ridiculous when laid out end to end on a patio or driveway. It also overwhelms me that I paid for all this stuff – or should I say my clients did – Team C.
My first accident was to stand on a cardboard box to reach higher, without checking that the box could support my weight. It couldn’t and, before I could recover, I was flying forward like a rugby player making a try – head first into the garage wall.
It didn’t knock me out – but came close. I felt pretty nauseous for a good half-hour afterwards and now I’m showing off a large lump on the top of my skull – and my receding hair cannot cover the red patch that is starting to turn technicolour.
In true “male” fashion, I’m trying to look like James Bond with an injury sustained fighting global terrorists.
Lesson 1 – check that the box can support your weight before you stand on it.
Metaphor 1 – adequate preparation.
In this case – it wouldn’t have mattered whether the box was half empty or half full – I would still have cracked my head.
Moral 1 – sometimes the box just has to be full.
Accident 2
I arrived at The Bush in Farnham last night and sat down in the bar to catch up with emails.
The bar in this 18th Century coaching house is dimly lit and looks very cosy – but I cannot see the keyboard of my laptop.
I consider retiring back to my room but don’t want the isolation just now. I want the steady buzz of people coming and going – sometimes that helps.
Each table has a blue glass bottle with a candle flame burning.
I reach to move the glass bottle and burn my fingers on the glass. No big surprise you dummy – but I still think it’s a bit of a hazardous device.
Reaching for my handkerchief, I slowly move the candle around the back of my laptop and carry on working.
A half hour later I realise that the candle has melted the top of my beautiful silver Vaio.
Lesson 2 – don’t leave your laptop next to a candle while you work
Metaphor 2 – be mindful of your environment
Moral 2 – a burning flame is hot?
Bar talk:
Overheard as two barmaids switch shifts:
A: “Your boyfriend picking you up?”
B: “No – he has had to drive to Oxford to see his dentist.” (that’s a good hour away)
A: “Oxford? That’s a long way to go – why doesn’t he see a dentist in Farnham?”
B: “He went to see a dentist in town who tried to stitch him up for 10 fillings. So he went back to see his original dentist who told him there was nothing wrong with his teeth and he didn’t need any fillings – and he has decided to stay with that guy.”
Sounds to me as if the dentist in Farnham has over-prescribed and the dentist in Oxford under-prescribed.
Bottom line is – neither of them got to know their client very well.


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Chris Barrow

Chris Barrow has been active as a consultant, trainer and coach to the UK dental profession for over 20 years. As a writer, his blog enjoys a strong following and he is a regular contributor to the dental press. Naturally direct, assertive and determined, he has the ability to reach conclusions quickly, as well as the sharp reflexes and lightness of touch to innovate, change tack and push boundaries. In 2014 he appeared as a “castaway” in the first season of the popular reality TV show “The Island with Bear Grylls”. His main professional focus is as Coach Barrow, providing coaching and mentorship to independent dentistry.