Buggered

Today was eye doctor day. I don't like eye doctor day because it means I have to listen to Mark whine about driving me there, and it means I will get my eyes poked and prodded. I also don't like eye doctor day because it also means I will have to sit in a waiting room with a lot of people who bother me. Now don't get me wrong, it isn't personal, but I don't like being stuck in a room with nobody younger than I am. I also don't like being in a room with a bunch of babies, or teenagers, or middle aged white men. I like diversity. The problem with this eye doctor is that he is in Boca Raton, a city often referred to as god's waiting room. Yesterday I was in that waiting room. It was a very large room filled with shuffling, coughing, hacking old people, pushing aluminum walkers around with tennis balls on the legs. One of the ladies had what I assume was the latest model aluminum walker. It had little wheels on it that turned every which way instead of tennis balls. It was the talk of the waiting room. Another feature of the waiting room was the young lady who would step in and call your name when it was time to see the doctor. More often than not the person being called had fallen asleep and had to be awakened by their wife/husband. I had to be careful not to fall asleep in the waiting room because Mark had left me there to go shopping at the Boca Mall.

"Make sure you have your old man phone turned on." he told me, "I don't want to come back here before your ready to go home!".   

There was one other problem with that doctor's waiting room. It had bugs. Honest to god, it had bugs. First there was the bug crawling on the back of my neck that I attributed to Mark eating in the car. I squished it and flicked it across the room. It was when I had already sat there for an hour and found one of the same bugs crawling on my arm, that I realized the bugs were indigenous to the waiting room.