Vision of loveliness

Lots of people I know complain about going to the dentist, but I think going to the eye doctor is a lot worse.

When you see a dentist, your teeth get scraped and poked and polished and drilled. But you can sit back and pretend you’re not there.

But at the eye doctor, you’re heavily involved. You’re constantly answering questions, and you’re constantly having to make decisions. No pressure or anything — the only thing at stake is your ability to see.

“Which looks better: 1 … or 2?”

“Uh … 2.”

“2 … or 3?”

“Could I see them again?”

“Certainly. There’s 2 … and there’s 3.”

“They’re so close. … If I have to choose, I’ll say 2.”

And when you’re done answering all those questions, you take the prescription somewhere and get eyeglasses or contact lenses. And as you’re putting them over your eyes or into your eyes, you’re reviewing the eye exam in your mind and thinking to yourself, “You dummy, you should have said 3.”

Imagine what it would be like if a matchmaking service used the same procedure as an eye doctor:

“Which looks better: blonde … or brunette?”

“Uh … blonde.”

“Blonde … or redhead?”

“Could I see them again?”

“Certainly. There’s the blonde … and there’s the redhead.”

“It’s so hard to decide.”

“Blonde … or redhead?”

“If I have to choose, I’ll say the blonde.”

“All right. Tall … or short?”

“Tall.”

“Tall … or statuesque?”

“Tall again.”

“You’re doing great. Stacked … or proportional?”

“Please go through that again.”

“Stacked …”

“Hold it there a second.”

“Snap judgments are usually best. Otherwise, your libido will adjust.”

“I’ll go with stacked.”

“Most guys do. Real … or fake?”

“They look the same.”

“Just remember, if you choose fake and the relationship clicks, there will probably be more plastic surgery to come.”

“Real, then. No, wait. I want her to look good 20 years from now. Fake. Definitely fake.”

“Good. We’re almost done. Naughty … or nice?”

“Can’t I get both?”

“Sure. We can order you two: one for home and one for social gatherings.”