The Eye Doctor

I was walking across my lawn, trying to find where the paper boy had hidden my morning newspaper, when I spotted a friend walking by. “Hey there!” I said. “Have you seen my newspaper?”

“Funny you should mention that,” he replied. “I went to the eye doctor just yesterday! I feel like a new man.”

I walked over to him and shook his hand vigorously. “Wonderful! You’d been needing to go for ages. I’m so glad you finally took my advice.”

“I am too,” he said. “I had really put off going for far too long.”

“So what did he tell you? Did he give you contacts? I don’t see you wearing glasses.”

“Actually,” my friend said, “he didn’t tell me anything.”

“What’s that?” I said.

“That’s right!” he replied, nodding his head. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“I don’t understand. Why not?”

My friend looked at me, puzzled. “Well, why would he?”

“Well, you did go to see him, didn’t you? Isn’t it traditional for the eye doctor to tell you something when you see him? How else are you going to know if you need glasses?”

“I suppose,” my friend replied, “but I didn’t actually let him look at my eyes. After all, I already knew that they were fine! There was no sense in bothering the doctor about that.”

“But that’s crazy!” I said. “Your eyes aren’t fine – they’re terrible! You’re as blind as a bat! Why, just last week you – ”

“Hey now,” he said, “bats have terrific vision. Do you know that they can catch mosquitoes in the dark? Can you do that?”

“I’m not talking about bats, Jeffrey! I’m talking about your eyesight. If you’re not going to let the doctor see you then why even go?”

“Oh, everyone should go see their eye doctor,” he replied. “It’s a good practice. I’m glad I went – they’ve got fascinating magazines in their waiting room, and you meet the most interesting people. I’m looking forward to going back next year. Hey, speaking of that, do you know I went to the dentist last week?”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I said.