I had my annual eye exam this week, to get a new prescription for contact lenses, and the glasses I wear as a backup (I take my lenses out each night, and wear my glasses until bedtime, and then wear the glasses first thing in the morning until after I shower, where I then put on my contact lenses).
Eye care technology has advanced enough, apparently, that eye doctors are able to tell in their exam if there is a risk factor for glaucoma, at which point they will then test for it by blowing that high pressure puff of air INTO MY FUCKING EYEBALL! Thankfully, the doctor saw none of the risk signs and decided there was no need for me to suffer through the aforementioned sadistic procedure.
While staring at the lights that he was waving around, my mind wandered, and I got to thinking how much fun it would be to have filthy, dirty sex in the eye doctor’s chair. And, since I have the attention span of a kitten, I got to thinking….if I had the choice between suffering through the glaucoma test where they shoot a blast of air into my eyeball, followed by the best sex imaginable, or not having the glaucoma test at all, getting my eyes examined, paying for the service and leaving, which one would I do?
It did not take long at all to decide that I would prefer not having a glaucoma test. If sex was involved, I would gladly give blood, see the dental hygienist, or sit in traffic for 2 hours listening to political talk radio (3 things I hate to do, but have done). But I would gladly pass on the sex if it meant not getting a glaucoma test.