Two dentists, four chairs, one rule: nothing happens in your mouth before it happens out loud, with a price attached. Most of our new patients have not been in a chair for years. Nobody here will mention that twice.
If we keep you waiting more than fifteen minutes past your appointment, the visit is free. Nine years running, that promise has cost us four cleanings.
The prices are on an actual page, with numbers.Fifteen minutes. That is the most of your day we will ever claim beyond your appointment, and the promise on the front page is not a slogan; the front desk tracks it on a sticky note with genuine competitive spirit.
The secret is boring: we book fewer patients than we could. A schedule with room in it is the entire technology.
Cleanings and checkups on a six-month rhythm the card on the fridge keeps for you. Fillings, crowns, and night guards done gently and explained first. Kids from age three, who statistically leave happier than they arrived; the treasure chest carries the practice.
Implants, wisdom teeth, and orthodontics go to the specialists we would send our own family to, with your x-rays already there when you arrive. A practice that claims to do everything is telling you something, if you listen.
Tell whoever books you, and the whole visit changes shape. The first appointment can be just a conversation in the office with the door open, no chair involved.
In the chair, you get a hand signal that stops everything, every time, no questions. Headphones, a blanket, and silence about the last time you flossed are all standard issue.
About a third of this practice arrived terrified. They keep the fridge cards now like everyone else.
