Honestly, the amount of time I had to wait at the eye doctor today was genuinely absurd. Like, I'm…read morenot even exaggerating when I say I feel like I could have completed an entire semester of school in the amount of time I spent sitting there. I walked in thinking, "Alright, this shouldn't take too long," because how complicated can an eye appointment really be? Apparently, extremely complicated, because somehow I ended up waiting for what felt like approximately 47 years.
I got there, checked in, sat down, and figured they'd call me back pretty soon. Nope. I sat there. And sat there. And continued sitting there. At a certain point, I started questioning whether I was actually at an eye doctor or if I had accidentally signed up to become a permanent resident of the waiting room. I watched people come in after me, check in after me, sit down after me, and somehow get called back before me. I genuinely started wondering if there was some sort of secret VIP line that I had not been informed about.
The worst part is that every time someone opened the door, I thought, "Finally, this is it." And then they would call someone else. Every. Single. Time. Eventually, I stopped even looking up because I had completely lost hope. I could have brought a sleeping bag, a pillow, a Nintendo Switch, three meals, and a change of clothes, and I still probably would have had plenty of time to spare.
At one point, I genuinely forgot why I was there. I started staring at the walls, reading every single sign in the office, looking at the eye charts, examining the fish tank--basically anything I could possibly do to entertain myself. I became more familiar with that waiting room than I am with my own house. If someone asked me where the bathroom was, what magazines they had, or what color the receptionist's chair was, I could have given them a full tour.
And then, just when I thought surely I had been forgotten completely, they finally called me back. But even THAT wasn't the end of it. I thought getting called back meant the appointment was finally going to happen. Instead, I got brought into another room and proceeded to wait AGAIN. So apparently there was a waiting room inside the waiting room. It was like an eye-doctor-themed escape room where the objective was simply to see how long I could remain patient before losing my mind.
By the time the actual doctor came in, I had aged approximately six years. I was no longer the same person who walked through those doors. I had experienced things. I had seen things. I had waited. And honestly, after all that time, I expected them to at least congratulate me for surviving the experience.
The whole appointment probably took about 20 minutes once everything actually started, which somehow made the waiting even more ridiculous. I spent what felt like an entire geological era waiting for something that was over practically as soon as it began. I genuinely think I spent more time staring at the waiting room wall than I spent talking to the actual eye doctor.
So yeah, overall, fantastic experience. Nothing says "we value your time" quite like making someone sit around long enough to reconsider every decision that led them to make the appointment in the first place. Next time I go to the eye doctor, I'm bringing snacks, a charger, a blanket, homework, and possibly a tent, because apparently I need to prepare for an overnight stay.
