PAD. PAD. PAD. PAD. PAD.
So I went to get my eyes checked last week. It's always dangerous to do so when you're within a month of your next birthday and everything on your body feels like you're trying to hold back a mudslide with a wet paper towel.
But I went. And I'm glad I did, although I'm still a little puzzled by what I saw.
First was this sign in the waiting room:
Hmmm. Pads. Okay. Not really sure what those are, but they sound important.
Then I saw this sign about three feet away from the first:
Ahh. I see. The pads are $5. And you have to sign in on the clipboard to get them from the lady with the bad breath who adjusts your frames while spewing halitosis up your nostrils as she invades your personal space.
Wait a second, though. This sign was directly above the second sign:
Well of course you're out of pads. You had two really excellent signs out there in the waiting room. That kind of thing always leads to panic buying.
I never found out what the pads actually do. Guess I'll never know, since they're out of stock.
Yes, pads they're out of. Stupid-ass signs? They've got plenty.
Posted by Jeff at January 3, 2005 08:37 AM