I may soon be working for Obama. That’s right, ridin’ with the federales.
How so, you ask? On Monday, I took the test to be a U.S. Census taker.
It was an interesting day. I had a long overdue visit with my eye doctor scheduled for 9:00 AM on February 23. Unfortunately, they were only giving the Census test once in our area for the foreseeable future, also on February 23 at 1:00PM. Since I no longer have a life, I don’t often have scheduling conflicts, but this was a beaut. I knew the eye doc would be dilating my pupils which causes me difficulty in seeing in general and driving in particular. I wondered if I would be able to read the test, even if I got there.
I wasn’t too concerned since there was a four hour period between the dilation and the exam, more than enough time for the effects to wear off.
Off course, it didn’t go that way. I got to the eye center at 8:45 to find the waiting room chock-a-block with very old ladies. Seems the doctor was running 40 minutes late already. Usually, when you are being dilated, a tech comes out and zaps you while you are in the waiting room, so that you are ready to go when you are called into the office. No one came to do me.
I sat there for 40 minutes. The old gals almost drove me crazy. One regaled everyone about how she was an hour early, but it didn’t matter, she had no place else to go. “I guess I need cataract surgery on my brain,” she quipped. When she checked in, the receptionist informed her that she was not an hour early, but a week late, since she was scheduled for the 16th, not the 23rd. “Today is not the 16th?,” she said. “I guess I need cataract surgery on my brain.” Another was regaling the poor soul next to her about her “deceased pussy,” presumably her cat. Yet another yelled across the room to her daughter on three occasions to inquire if she had change for a $20 bill.
At 9:45 I was rescued by a nurse who led me to the examining room and immediately dilated me. The doctor arrived ten minutes later, checked me out and decided I wasn’t dilating fast enough and added more drops.
When he began the exam, I asked if he thought I would be in shape to take a written exam at 1:00. “It looks iffy to me,” was his professional opinion.
When all was done at 10:30 my exit into the parking lot was like Timothy Leary waking from a bad trip. The world was awash in blinding light and throbbing colors and populated with unidentifiable moving objects I could only assume were autos and pedestrians. Somehow I drove the 15 miles to my house without incident. At least I think so, since I have seen no hit and run fatalities reported in the paper.
I got home at 11:15 and realized that I had just forty five minutes to regain my eyesight before having to drive the ten miles to Clinton to take the census exam.
(to be continued)