Let me stare deep into your eyes

This weekend I had the distinct displeasure of visiting one of my arch nemises. The EyeBall Doctor. Its not that I hate the actual doctor. No, doctor Korn is a cool guy and all, its just the whole procedure that bothers me so much. First off you have to do all the little tests before the doctor will even see you. You have the one where they blow on your eyeball, that they claim is to detect glocoma. I am fairly sure its just because people make a funny face when they get air blown at their eyes. your eyes close real tight and your whole face contracts and the best part is that you have to do it again. Its like a little kid getting shocked from a socket, then just trying the same fork in the 2nd plug of the outlet. After the eye ball blowing (yes that one is actually a sexual favor, and if you have to ask, you can't afford it) you get to look at a cactus. Well your supposed to look at the end of the road as it focuses in and out. The test is designed to get an aproximate precription for your eyes. but really it just shows you a cactus on a blank desert road and sees how long you can try not to look at it. Its a simple fact that cactuses are more interesting then the vanishing point of a desert road. (In fact cactuses are more intresting then a lot of stuff, next time you are bored at class, at work, visiting relatives, watching a bad movie, or doing homework just compare the experience to cactus watching, I think you will be pleasanty surprised.) After the test of your ability to not look at desert flora,you move into the actual doctors office. This is where I move from slightly annoyed to terrorified. Its always dark in the office and sometimes there is soft music in the backround. Already that is sending me the wrong signals. The scented candles and massage oils didn't help either. And the first thing he does is straddle a stool directly infront of you and places a giant piece of metal infront of your eyes that has the ability to make you see incrediably clearly, or not at all. Then the fun starts. He starts flipping lenses at a fraction of light speed and asks your opinion on them, Better or Worse. 1 or 2, on and on this goes until you are too confused to know anymore. You asked for them to be repeated and then you just guess after a while. Well this time I got a 3rd option that I don't remember having before. I can now respond "same". Shit! I was planning on just guessing and having a 50 50 chance of getting it right, now my odds are down to 33.crazy decimal that knows no end. I don't like those odds, mostly because I like my decimals to stop after a respectable distance. After all this, he pulls off that machine and then looks at your eyes with a flashlight for a few minutes. I figure this is when he is going to make his move, temporarily blinding you, and leaning close enough to notice my deodorant brand (I know some of you are shocked, but yes I do wear it.) Then he slides away, apparently satisfied. and tells you that your prescription hasn't changed. WHAT! all that for no change, you better lie to me after all that, change some decimals around. make up a disease or something.
Well anyways I am the proud owner of glasses again and can now see and possibly drive somewhat more safely.