I Know How to Pick ‘Em (Eye Doctors That Is)

I went to the eye doc this week in order to renew my contact prescription (you know, because my the script for my specs is like 7 years old, maybe older…like 9…and I have no desire to get new glasses…) And this is the conversation that transpired.

Doc: Something tells me that your glasses aren’t from the prescription we had last year.

Me: No…they may be a little older than that…But…I mean, it’s okay, because I NEVER wear my glasses (this is kind of a little white lie).

Doc: Well, you know…in the zombie apocalypse, no one’s going to be running out to find contact solution. Update. Your. Glasses.

Me: *Internal SQUEE!* OK, you’ve got me there…

Doc: I’ve been watching The Walking Dead…

Me: Don’t tell me; we haven’t watched this week’s episode yet.

Doc: After 3 years, the zombies don’t scare me anymore…it’s the people. That backpacker from a few weeks ago? Yeah. Horrible.

Me: Right?! When I have my zombie nightmares on Sunday/Monday nights depending on when we watch it…I don’t dream about the zombies…it’s the people that really get to me.

Doc: You know, I’m not very prepared for it either. No gun. Maybe a few kitchen knives.  Then there are the people who save up food and water and supplies getting themselves prepared for anything…except that they have no weapons. They don’t realize they’re stocking up for the fully stocked armory that is one of their neighbors.

Me: True story, Doc.

Doc: Great show, The Walking Dead. I’ll see you in a year. Get some new glasses, alright?

Me: Sure thing, Doc.

I must be doing something right. Best. Eye Doctor. Ever.

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