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Friday, November 4, 2011

Face to Face.



I had my eyes molested.

It happened during an eye exam. The office was small, located in a strip mall. The room was in the back. The doctor looked to be about 70. He was nice enough, explained things thoroughly, wrote everything down. I felt pretty good that he knew what he was doing, despite the elephant skin.


Then he gets to the end of the exam. He has to look inside my eyeballs. He holds up a bright light and begins to lean in. He smells like a leather couch. A clean couch, but an old one. He's breathing loud and he leans in some more. Then he leans in some more.

Then some more.

Until the back of his hand is pressed against my cheek. The only thing separating his face from mine are his leather couch fingers.

Let me recap. I'm in a dark room in the back of a strip mall with an old man pushing his face against mine.

"No glaucoma in there," he finally announces.

What a relief.


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