There Might Be A Rumble

Tomorrow, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is waging war on reading the riot act to calling to huffily accuse malpractice by making a polite telephone inquiry to her optometrist's office.

The glasses I ordered three weeks ago are nowhere to be found. They said it would take two weeks. Huh. It used to take one week, but ever since I got the worst pair of glasses ever ground to imperfection in the history of moderately-aged women wearing glasses...I have not been one to rush the craftsmen. I believe I went back more than 10 times with those spectacles, not caring if I made a spectacle of myself. THEY SUCKED! The glasses. AND the optometrist's office.

My best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel told me not to trust any doctor there except one. But I got a NEW doctor. One who was tops in his glasses class, and who was also in the military, and has been published in medical journals. AND The Pony had his brother, who has the same credentials. Anyhoo...I liked him. I really liked him.

When I went to pick out glasses, I saw the ones I wanted right away. AND a second pair. Since I didn't get any last year, I treated myself to two. Maybe.

The Pony had his appointment the day after mine. He picked out two pair of glasses. He's blind without them. He needs a spare when he's all the way in Oklahoma. Because without them, he can't see to look up an optometrist! The Pony's glasses came in one week later. In fact, it was only five days.

The next week, near the end, which made it two weeks, I got a call that my glasses were in. So I went. Tried them on. I can see great! Except I only saw one pair of glasses.

"I ordered two pair. Paid for both of them the day I had my appointment."

"Oh. Let me check. No. Not here. It's not unusual for glasses to come in on different days."

So now three weeks have passed. And I have paid for two pair of glasses. And received one pair.

Nobody can do a job right anymore, can they?