A VISIT TO THE OPTOMETRIST
WHAT’S THE OTHER ONE FOR?
Went to the eye doctor yesterday,
and though my new glasses are tops,
I really wanted a monocle.
I’m a nearsighted cyclops.
Well, I’m no cyclops, but I really did go to the optometrist yesterday. My optometrist cracks me up, because after every answer you give, he praises your feedback. “Which is better, number one or number 2? Great! Wonderful!” I started laughing because he was making me feel like I was winning Jeopardy. “That’s a perfect answer! Good job!”
What, am I going to be valedictorian of the School of Poor Vision? I’ll earn an A in Astigmatism?
I can tell it’s habit for him. He must get people worrying and apologizing that they can’t read lines as he’s fiddling with their prescription. So he reassures them to get them to relax and stop squinting. Well, his undue amount of praise kept making me laugh, and when I smile my eyes all but disappear anyway. (My mom and I are forever having people tell us not to squint in photographs, but it’s either that or not smile.)
Behold me squinting.
So I’d grin at the lavish praise for bad eyesight, he’d compensate by telling me that was just the right answer!, and I’d only squint more for laughing.
One of my dearest college friends and I had a long dinner discussion once over the compulsion to cheat on eye exams. It’s easy to cheat, because optometrists rarely change their letters up, and you just memorize them. But it’s a true lesson in how cheating really cheats yourself, because then you wind up with weak glasses for the next year. I bet in optometry school they warn the doctors about this flaw in human nature. That patients will want to cheat on the eye charts.