On the Matter of Ears.

Following on from my ear issue as reported in my post of 10^th May, I went into my regular opticians today and related my experience with the practice nurse:

‘She told me that doctors don’t do ears; opticians do. Do you?’

‘No,’ replied the man on the reception desk with a friendly smile (I’m always a little suspicious of men with friendly smiles. I wonder why.) He continued: 'But Specsavers over the road do.' 

 

I went over the road to Specsavers.

‘I’m told you do ears,’ I said.

At that point the whole thing became confused, mainly because the young woman on reception (who never smiled once, which I also found a little suspicious because young women in shops are usually much given to smiling) seemed confused about the nature of my requirements. I think she was inexperienced (and I’ve always been prepared to accommodate inexperience in young women, as you would probably expect.) Eventually I convinced her of the nature of my requirements and she took herself off for advice, having first asked me to take a seat ‘on one of the green chairs.’ (I wondered what deleterious consequences might await some poor soul who sat on a chair which wasn’t green – and even remarked as much to the woman sitting on the green chair next to mine – but noticed that all the chairs I could see from that angle were green anyway, so there was no need to worry.) And then she came back, having apparently consulted the audiologist.

‘We only do arranged appointments for people under fifty five,’ she began. Others have to use the drop-in facility.’

‘How do you know I’m not under fifty five?’ I enquired with a commendable show of earnestness. (The woman in the green seat next to mine smirked. I suspect it’s all a matter of confidence because the young woman receptionist said nothing for a while, but she did look mildly discomfited and definitely blushed.)

‘The drop-in facility is at 1.30 on Mondays and Thursdays,’ she continued.

There was a pregnant pause while I consulted my mental diary.

‘OK, I’ll come back next Thursday.’

And so I might, and then I left.

*  *  *

I really don’t belong here, you know. A man on YouTube told me that not belonging is a sure sign of being an old soul. I expect he gets lots of hits from people who like to be told they’re old souls, and makes lots of money out of it. Such is life in the 21^st century.