A few days back I ordered a new set of prescription eyewear, and when I arrived at the office to have them fitted, the technician asked me, "Do you, by chance, read a lot?"
Do I read a lot? Does a Ozzy Osborne have a nervous tick? Do cows make pies? Does Peyton Manning throw touchdown passes? Does Tiger Woods cheat on his wife?
Yeah, lady, I read a lot. What about it?
"Well," she said, "these glasses are for distance only. Have you considered getting a pair of bifocals, or perhaps a pair of reading glasses?"
"No thank you," I said. "I enjoy holding my reading material at arm's length. Holding a book four feet from my face helps me to develop my deltoids."
"You might find that some reading glasses would help you."
"Listen, lady, there's a lot of things that could help me. Having a sixteen year old who would take out the trash would help me. Having a cat that doesn't puke on the rug would help me. Heck, my situation could be helped if Dunkin' Donuts called to offer me a job so I could make double tuition payments to IU and Ball State . . . but you don't see me complaining. I'll just squint."
That shut her up.
Next week, however, I am going down to CVS pharmacy to look through their reading glasses. I'll try on a pair. Of course, I'll need a pair that will make me look like Ricardo Montalban.
Otherwise, they won't help.
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