I’m not blaming the eye people for not being my eye people at my eye appointment. You see, a new company had bought my eye doctor’s place.
I’m also not blaming them for not telling me that the main street was a torn up shambles.
Then the eye doctor checked my eyes and then said that she wanted to take another eyeball scan, because she wasn’t sure about the results of the first test.
I left the examining room and sat down.
That was my SECOND test. Please count them. One, two. One before the doctor looked at my eyes and one after. Two. Two. Two tests in One. You’ll see, in a few more words, that this little gum commercial ditty makes sense. I was about to fall down the Alice in Wonderland hole.
As she adjusted my glasses, another woman behind another desk said, “We need to give you a second test.”
I said, “I’ve already had a second test.”
She said, “No, you have only had one test.”
I said, “No. I had one before I saw the doctor and one after I saw the doctor.”
“No, you only had one test.”
“I firmly believe that I have had two.”
“No, you have only had one.”
I did what I was told.
When I left the place and walked around the war-torn roads, I felt strangely light and empty-headed, and wondered if I, at my age, had only had a vision of the second test. I also had a hankering for some chewing gum.