Some days find us longing for the flower of youth. Among the accumulating indignities of age — miscellaneous aches, chronic pains, increased difficulty in tying shoes — one of the most tedious is the need for vision correction.
Postponing them as long as I could, new eyeglasses finally caught up with me this week.
Some days find us longing for the flower of youth. Among the accumulating indignities of age — miscellaneous aches, chronic pains, increased difficulty in tying shoes — one of the most tedious is the need for vision correction.
Postponing them as long as I could, new eyeglasses finally caught up with me this week.
This was just my fifth pair of spectacles, but acquiring a fresh set every three years or so makes the experience an uncomfortable ordeal. What frames are going to fit my head correctly and accommodate bifocals? Who are these designers with prices at the same level as my first car? Where do I sign up for a place to feed at their overpriced trough?
In the past I have gone to the brand-name eyewear providers in the mall, shelling out big out-of-pocket bucks. I have used the optical provider in my big-box, membership-only store, relinquishing slightly less of my hard-earned dough. And I have obtained glasses from the local stand-alone shop, still disbursing a small fortune despite coverage under my former wife’s insurance.
This time, after perusing their fabulous sale online, I elected to patronize one of the national chains. Dialing the number, I secured an eye exam slot that very afternoon.
The unfamiliarity of purchasing eyewear had me stressed well before I arrived. Needless to say, I walked in with a massive chip on my shoulder, but early enough to fill out the new client paperwork before my scheduled appointment.
Some 30 long minutes after that appointed hour, a technician finally beckoned me into the “pre-exam” room. After four minutes with her, I enjoyed another waiting period at least twice that long before the eye doctor gave me an efficient seven-minute exam.
Armed with a new prescription and the revelation my corneas had already started work on a cataract project, I cooled my heels for another 15 minutes in the waiting area. Actually, my heels stayed warm as I impatiently paced the floor. At last, a chain store professional became available to help me.
My inquiry about the advertised special allowed her to showcase her trade expertise as she methodically listed the many reasons I would not want the product described in the website sale literature. No, she explained, I would need something far more intricate and pricey.
Resigned to my fate, I selected the least expensive frames I could aesthetically stomach, then let her add up that cost plus lenses plus essential extras.
Why are vital features never included in the base price? From her explanation, only a fool would wear lenses without coatings to provide ultraviolet ray protection, scratch resistance, and the reduction of harmful glare. I sighed and nodded my assent to the added charges.
The final tally came out at two-and-a-half times the price of the advertised special. I fled, relieved to have spent only that sum and 90 minutes of my life.
But really, I should feel on top of the world, being able to afford the exam and the glasses, and able to procure those with relative, if not timely, ease. Filing this under First World Problems, I’ll stop complaining now.
Pat Grimes, a former South Bay resident, writes from Ypsilanti, Mich. He can be reached at pgwriter@inbox.com
