Hypothetically speaking, because we are all SICK TO DEATH of hearing about my personal dental issues, this is why I hate going to the dentist.
Let's say that you get up at the crack of dawn to go and finally get the permanent crown for the tooth you had to have a root canal in last month. You remind the assistant that you have an irrational fear of all things dental and ask about novocaine. She says you won't need it because the tooth has no nerves in it anymore so it couldn't possibly hurt. (silly!) Your dentist comes in and chats with you for a while about the Stanley Cup and how much he hates the early morning and then he gets started. He can't get the temporary crown off and almost breaks all your other teeth when his torture tools keep slipping off said temporary crown and then he begins to sweat uncontrollably and says to the assistant, "Is it HOT in here? I am so hot!" He keeps trying and keeps saying, "It's almost there" and you can tell, because the tooth is in your head, that it's not any closer than it ever was. You're remembering him saying how important it was to have a crown put on because the tooth is so very weak and could break at any time, and that you shouldn't eat anything sticky with the temporary crown because it could just slip off. You realize that the tooth is way stronger than anyone ever thought, and the temporary crown will never in a million years just slip off, and he's going to have to break it if he wants to get it off. After another five minutes of sweating and pulling, he says, "Well, I think we're going to have to break it off." And then he breaks it off.
Hypothetically speaking, that's why I hate the dentist so much.