I didn’t have a clue just how attractive the optometrist was until she put lenses on my eyes as part of the diagnosis process. And to think she’d been messing around with my face for the last half hour, testing this and that, and getting me to read letters on a wall chart.
Goodness! And what pleasant banter she went on with. So skilled at small talk, and yet she seemed genuinely interested in what I did – how I filled in my time.
And her dress sense! She knew how to dress. She was both fashionable and geared for work. The exact right mix.
“Was she local?” Indeed she was. In fact she lived with her parents “just down the road”. With her parents! There was no hubby in sight, she told me. Quite the marriageable age. In her mid-twenties I would guess.
She was aiming to start her own optometrist business one day. In the next town. That was where I lived! She was saving up to achieve her dream. I almost told her there and then that I would pay for it! Being a bachelor I had plenty of money that needed spending.
Of course, she took the lenses off and all I could see were fuzzy shapes. I shouldn’t be driving apparently; at least not until the prescription glasses arrived possibly in a few days to a week’s time.
I thanked her very much and left. But I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I would like to have asked her out on a date. I only wish I wasn’t in my mid-eighties.