I have a generally high tolerance for pain everywhere except for the mouth. My biggest nightmare is getting hit in the mouth. The Sopranos episode where Tony kicks the guy in the head while he's laying on the steps is horror-inducing to me. So the dentist, for me, is not fun. I went almost ten years after high school without going once because my childhood dentists (a family friend; his nephew is my eye doctor) was a butcher. A girlfriend in law school finally convinced me that I should go regularly to avoid the "big catastrophy" and so far she has been right. I go three times a year like clockwork and the only real work I've had to have done is a crown.
Every couple months or so Dave and would have a conversation about God, and he will occasionally ask me "why do you believe there's a god?". I'm tempted to say, "because I was born with only two wisdom teeth and neither have to be removed." (Both on the right side, one is in it's "normal" place, and one is sideways, down by my jaw, and would be major surgery to remove because it's so close to one of the facial nerves).
Most times in the chair, I'm gripping my hands together tightly, and it's everything I can do not to flinch or cringe. Even certain things in cleanings - some of the scrapings, when they measure the gum recession - will make me wince. It's horrible, and I spend most of the time in the room apologizing, sometimes in advance, to the hygienist. Unfortunately, I've watched too much Ridiculousness to submit to nitrous. I can just see myself complimenting the hygienist for her rack or something equally juvenile. It's just way too much stress.
(FYI, I wrote this to be humorous and entertaining, but it's 100% accurate as far as my feelings for the dentist go.)