Adventures at the Walmart Optical Center

 

 

I am back in contacts!! 

Well, I have 3 more trial pairs left (once-a-days) and then two weeks in glasses while Walmart orders more, but THEN I am back in contacts!

The world is so clear!  So big!  So rim-free!

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And, boy, do I have a story to tell.

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I decided to go to the Walmart Optical Department to get my new patient exam and contacts.

Because Walmart = cheap.

You get what you pay for, I suppose.

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So, I walked in and said, “Hello!  I have a 6:00…”

“Sit down here.”  The receptionist lady interrupted.

And handed me my paper work.

Okie dokie, then.

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I was filling out my paper work when I heard one of the office managers/optical assistants (?) say, “Oh, S**T!”

Classy.

“What?”  asked the other lady.

“I forgot that I can’t take this laundry detergent home because I drove my scooter to work.”

“Oh man, ain’t you got a basket or nothin’?”

“No.   S**T.”

Clearly, these two were professionals. 

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The one with the excellent grammar led me back into an exam room of some kind.

Let me note that she was COVERED in macabre tattoos and had a ginormous fake flower stuck in her hair.  A little contradictory, but whatev.

“Put your head here.” she stated blandly.

I looked into a machine at a picture that kept going in focus and out of focus.  Checking my eyes for something.

“Now this one.”

I moved to another machine where I gazed at a multi-colored flashing light.

Just then, a little voice in my head said, “Wait a minute, Caitlin, isn’t this the one that…”

WHAMO!

My eyes were blasted with a stream of air.

Wasn’t she going to warn me?!!

You know, “This one is going to puff some air in your eyes so don’t get startled and fly back in your wheely chair clear across the room!”

I had to roll myself back to machine-of-doom from across the hall and face round two of air puffing.

I was blinking and jerking around like a crazy person.

“Don’t blink.” she ordered.

“Umm…okay.”  I stammered.

And continued to blink frantically.

It took her 3 tries to puff air into my terrified eyeball.

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She led me into a room to wait for the doctor, while she and the other assistant continued their foul language-ridden conversation down the hall.

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The doctor seemed nice enough and got right down to business.

After the exam, he took me into another room to try out some contacts.

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It was taking me a while to get those puppies to stay in my eyes, and I started feeling embarrassed.

“Oops!”  I giggled awkwardly, “Why can’t I get these into my eyes?”

“I don’t know.”  Stated the Doctor.  Deadpan.

AWKWARD!

Don’t you think that MAYBE it’s because I haven’t worn contacts in two years?

I started hating him.

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He continued to write on his clipboard for a while, then sighed loudly, put down his pen and said, “Here.”

While he

Grabbed

the

contact

and

stuck

it

in

my

eye.

Without washing his hands or anything!!!!

Disgusting!

I was in shock and didn’t know what to do with my face.

Smile?

Cry?

Grimace?

Grab his arm and firmly explain to him about little things called GERMS?

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I just kept thinking, “Oh man, I can’t wait to blog about this.”

My follow up appointment is next week…