Adventures with Chris Collins.

Once a year, I have to go to the eye doctor to see how my eyes are doing. The doctor has a really bad habit of saying that everything is perfect. Multiple times. So, I am happy to report to you that my eyes are, well, perfect. Perfect perfect perfect perfect perfect.

I had my eye surgery at the Duke Eye Center. There are always eye doctors in training who would like to take a look at the lenses. The doctors-in-training at Duke are always a certain type. They are slim. Cute. With dark hair. Not especially tall. Think Chris Collins.

Monday’s Chris Collins was very nice. We made small talk, he checked the pressure in my eyes. And then. Then he strapped on this giant weird headlamp thing in order to “look at the back of [my] eyes.”

Okay. I am, unfortunately, the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral. So when the eye doctor randomly and without warning straps on a giant headlamp and is looking directly at my face, I. Have. A. Problem. A serious problem. I cannot look away. I cannot hide my face. I cannot do anything except giggle uncontrollably. Which makes me giggle more uncontrollably. This is just a guess, but I think that Chris Collins is maybe not the hugest fan of me. I did not respect the headlamp.

So, it’s a good thing that I don’t have to go back for a year. At which time there will be a new Chris Collins for me to get to know. Perhaps I will be better behaved. At least I will be better prepared.

(You can’t just grab a giant headlamp out of the corner, strap it on your head, and pretend that is normal. Okay? I would think that was a basic rule. Of etiquette. Check with Emily Post, I am sure she agrees.)

(I really really wanted to say, “Are we going on The Amazing Race?” I hope you are impressed with my self-control.)

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