The Optometrist

I went to the optometrist today. I had an appointment at ten a.m. I don’t like to make appointments earlier than that. I know myself. I ‘m not your quintessential morning person.

Yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call, but I didn’t recognize the number so I let it go to voicemail. I didn’t check the voicemail until later in the evening. A woman had left me a message. She was from my optometrist’s office.

“This a reminder that you have an appointment tomorrow at nine a.m. Thank you.” Click.

It was too late to call her back and straighten out the matter. I figured I’d show up at ten. After all, it was their mistake.

I had a restless slept. I was full of nerves. My optometrist appointment was on my mind. My last three experiences with optometrist's were not pleasant. There was a sleazy quality to them. I felt like I was being had, and I was. I had a hard time getting answers with regard to price structure. When they did answer, the information was vague. There was mass manipulation taking place. I felt the presence of dishonesty. On all three occasions, I tried to escape, but couldn’t.

There was a Russian optometrist that tried every way imaginable to separate me from my money. He fooled me with his sexy Russian assistant. She was beautiful. When I walked into the Russian’s office a bad feeling over came me. I sat down and then got up to leave when the pretty Russian assistant picked up on my intent. I should have run out of there, but I didn’t. They took me, and my insurance for all we had.

My last optometrist was a Jazz trumpet player. He trapped me with music talk, and then charged me extra for lenses, and frames, and an eye drop test of some sort. When I walked out of there I felt cheated and I couldn’t see from the eye drop test.

“Your eyes are going be a little sensitive,” he told me.

The phone rang at nine-twenty this morning. It was the optometrist.

“You have an appointment at nine a.m.”

“No, it was for ten.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was. I know myself. I never schedule appointments before ten if I can help it.”

“Oh we have nine written down. I’m not sure if I can fit you in today. Lets see, can you come in at twelve-forty-five?”

“No, we can reschedule.”

Somehow at great inconvenience the woman squeezed me in at ten. When I arrived, the place was empty. I was their only customer. I filled out the requisite paper work and sat down to read a magazine. I barely had time to look at the pictures when I heard my named called. I turned to see who it was. It was the optometrist. She was wearing a white lab coat and was the most beautiful Asian woman I've ever seen.