I continue in my quest to screw as much as possible from the system.
I booked a free home eye test for Herself.
I didn’t know how this was to work as modern eye tests seem to require equipment that would rival the Hadron Collider, but anyway we got a call the other day to say they were on their way the following morning.
I set the alarm as they were to arrive at the ungodly hour of nine thirty, and sure enough, they arrived in a small van and duly parked. Two fine young things got out and started hauling cases, crates and bags out of the van. It looked like they had actually managed to bring the Hadron Collider to the Manor.
They took over the room, setting up boxes and computers and stuff [they even set up a little wifi network of their own which was neat], and started testing Herself. That went fine. She needs new lenses but that was no surprise as she’s as blind as a fucking bat. I blame all the time she spends on Farcebook.
“Are you going to get tested?” Herself asked me.
“Well,” says I, “if the girls don’t mind doing me then I won’t object.” Herself gave me one of her funny looks. The girls sniggered.
They duly ran tests and decided that my lenses were perfect which is somewhat surprising after three or more years.
They started packing up and printing out reports [they even brought their own printer], one of which they gave me. Apparently my sight is perfect but there is a small problem. It seems that the tyre pressure inside the eyeballs should be somewhere between 12 and 22 but both my eyes were between 28 and 34.
So the exercise was to get glasses for Herself, but I’m the one who has to make an appointment to see an eye specialist. Bugger!
There’s no such thing as a free lunch.