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Tony Grist

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Mr Harris [Nov. 16th, 2004|12:16 pm]
Tony Grist
My father-in-law says that Mr Harris is the best optician in Oldham, but he won't go to him because Mr Harris smokes a pipe.

That's just daft.

But it's a sign of the times that you go into the consulting room and you notice the reek of tobacco. Once upon a time you wouldn't have noticed because every public space smelt the same.

My Harris is only working part-time now and I guess he's looking to retire. We'll miss him when he does.
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[User Picture]From: jackiejj
2004-11-16 01:11 pm (UTC)
My Harris is only working part-time now and I guess he's looking to retire. We'll miss him when he does.

My optometrist is still young. He alarms me with his medical terminology: he'll talk about exactly what he's seeing through those bright lights, and every time I expect him to stop his patter with "uh-oh!"

I really don't want to know how things work. I worry a little that if I know the magic will be up and something will break loose.

Does your Mr. Harris have tests in the outer office? My Dr. Greer has:

-Where is the cow jumping? Is he just over the cross, just to the left, or just to the right?

-Put on this eyepatch and push the button when you see the lights flashing in your peripheral vision

-Hold very still while I puff this air into your eye to test for glaucoma

-Look steadily at the picture of the mountain and the road; this will allow the computer to guess at your prescription

Then I am ushered into the Inner Room.

Finally, chirpy Christy will talk me into expensive frames.

(And I hate it when she frowns when I try on something I like. She doesn't approve. But she won't say so exactly. "Why don't you try this?" she'll say gently, handing me some expensive frames made out of platinum.)




I hope your Mr. Harris continues for a few more years.
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2004-11-16 01:44 pm (UTC)
There are three rooms.

There's the waiting room. It used to have interesting celebrity lifestyle magazines. Now it just has the Oldham Advertiser and specialist magazines about eyes and glasses.

Then there's the room where the assistant does the glaucoma test. We don't have jumping cows and mountain roads. They sound like fun.

Then there's Mr Harris's own room with pictures of his wife and the Lake District (where he loves to go rambling) and a huge bookcase full of interesting books, including a full set of Dickens.
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