Je me souviens d'un homme qui avait peur de la dentiste

Whatever Perec was like on the couch, he was certainly the worst patient his dentist had ever had, and he nearly drove her to despair. He would turn up for appointments armed with excuses, often pathetically thin ones: ha had a cold and it wasn't a good day for an injection; he was feeling sad and didn't want to hear the sound of the drill; couldn't she just put it all off for a little while? Or else he would ring up in advance to say that he was at a meeting that was dragging on. Did she mind if he was late? She did? So it would be more convenient to cancel? When he did turn up, the dentist would have to distract him with tricks normally reserved for whining infants. On three out of every four appointments she got no dental work done at all.

ur Georges Perec: A Life in Words, David Bellos (s. 562)

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