Wednesday, May 2, 2012

The Eye Doctor

I went to the eye doctor on Monday. I wear glasses and, like most folks in their 40's, my vision is changing.  I won't say the nasty "bifocal" word, but I'll just say that my glasses needed an adjustment. Anyway, when I got there, it wasn't my regular eye doctor. My regular eye doctor is a lovely young east Indian woman who speaks with a thick accent I can't understand, but she is very sweet, and I've learned that I apparently don't need to understand what she says.  I get my prescription in writing and I just smile and thank her for a lovely time.

This time, there was a new eye doctor. A man.  A tall man - about 6'4". A middle aged man - about 50-ish. A distinguished-looking man - salt and pepper hair. A nerdy man - wearing khakis and a sweater vest. A strong man - visible muscles on his forearms and biceps. Yes, Prowlers.  This eye doctor was my dream man.

Hubby had taken me to the eye doctor (I'm being monitored like a child, remember?) and he took one look at Dream Doc and asked if he could come into the exam room with me. Sheesh. I giggled and said no and he gave me the "look" as I was going in.  I waved goodbye to him as the door clicked shut behind us.

You know the "look" I mean, don't you?  It was his, "You sure as hell better be good" look. It's exactly the same look he gives our 8-year-old when we drop him off at a friend's house to play.

I forgot about his look as soon as the door closed, and I focused my attention on Dream Doc.  No ring.  No suntan line where a ring would be.  Damn. Of course, lots of married men don't wear rings.

I followed all of his instructions and was amazed at all the things he was saying and explaining to me.  Gee, if I had known it were that interesting, I would have helped my regular eye doc learn English faster. Wait, maybe it wasn't interesting at all.  Maybe I was just entranced by Dream Doc and his sexy voice.

I chit chatted with him and turned on the charm. We both laughed a few times and I knew that Hubby would be going crazy when he heard the laughter as he sat frustrated in the waiting room. Sweet.

The lights were off.  He was right next to me.  His leg was pressed against mine, and every time he leaned over to change a lens his arm brushed against me. I didn't remember an eye exam feeling this intimate before.

When I was growing up, there was a big scandal in my home town about an eye doctor who molested several of his female patients while they were in the exam room alone with him.  Apparently he touched their breasts, played with their hair, and so on.  At the time I was disgusted and outraged like everyone else. Right now, though, I was fantasizing about that kind of an eye exam from Dream Doc.

At one point he stopped and turned and looked at me. The poor guy was probably drowning in the  pheromones I was exuding. I looked right back at him, holding his gaze, not blinking. Then I licked my lips and bit my lower lip.

That did it. He turned around with his back to me and started talking, stammering, stuttering. Yes! I did the victory dance (on the inside, of course).  I 'd had my way with Dream Doc!

As I was walking to to the door to leave, he asked if there was a number where he could reach me. Sometimes he likes to check up on some of his patients a day or two later to make sure they didn't have any long term effects from the dilation. Yeah.  Right. I gave him my cell number, and said, "Thanks.  That would be great.  The last time I had some problems later and I didn't know what to do."

For the record, I don't think I have ever had a problem when I didn't know what to do, but I also know the damsel in distress act works just about every time.

When I walked out to the waiting room, Hubby gave me his other "look." This one was his, "I'd better not find out your were bad" look. And then he proceeded to talk to the doctor about my exam and my prescription. Again, as if I were a child. I didn't mind too much.  It just gave me more time to stare at Dream Doc.

Then Hubby actually asked him where my regular doctor was. Dream Doc explained that he was subbing for her, and that he was only at the clinic two days a week.  Then he looked straight at me as he said what too days those were and what hours he was usually there. I smiled.  Dream Doc smiled.  Hubby steamed.

On the way home, he grilled me about every single thing that happened and every single thing that was said.  I told him everything - except the part about giving him my number.  Why upset him for no reason?

This afternoon, the phone rang. I answered, and then I heard Dream Doc's voice say, "Hello, is this Kat?"

To be continued.......


Max said...

Ooh, a cliffhanger. :-) Very interesting, please continue this ASAP!

Leah said...

Wow - what a story! My eye doc is short, fat and balding, so I'm not happy when he has to get up close and personal :-(

My dentist on the other hand is a different matter! He's well over 6 feet, very toned and athletic looking, looks like Colin Firth for gods sake! I was there just yesterday. He inflicted some pain but I forgave him, as I do each time ;-D

Clem said...

Very fun story. Looking forward to hear how the phone call went.

Gertie said...

Great story and glad the phone call went well. I was wondering where you would suggest getting my eyes checked, I suddenly feel like my perscription is out of date.

Kat said...

Max and Clem - Don't worry. The rest will be coming soon.

Leah - We had a scandal in the town where I live now about a dentist who was groping women, claiming to be giving them massages to relax their jaws. Maybe you should ask your dentist for a massage? ;-)

Gertie - Good eye care is very important, you know. I know at least one eye doc I would definitely recommend. And I suspect he makes calls.

Pam P said...

one of the reasons I adore you blog, is that your dream man and my dream man are the same. I love living vicariously through you ;)

Now don't leave us hanging too long, ok?

Anonymous said...


This post seems oddly inconsistent with the woman you revealed to us in "Why I Cheat." Therein, you spoke of your infidelities as a regrettable consequence of a marriage overburdened by sexual incompatibility. You paint yourself understandably as a woman in pain who would prefer not to hurt her spouse if there were a better solution in place.

In this entry, you display an almost sadistic pleasure in driving your husband crazy with his suspicion...and then justifying his suspicion by nearly seducing the doctor.

I'm confused, Kat.

Kat said...

Anon - It's not a sadistic pleasure at all, but you are right that it wasn't very nice. It's also not very nice that I'm treated like a child. I can't even got to the eye doctor alone. Seriously? That still doesn't make it right.

The first paragraph of your comment was correct. I do not want to hurt my husband, but.....

...the short answer for you to address your confusion is... I'm not perfect.

Anonymous said...

" It's also not very nice that I'm treated like a child. I can't even got to the eye doctor alone."

It's a tricky and unpleasant situation, granted. A lot of affair literature suggests that betrayed spouses need total transparency from the cheating spouse to establish trust again, and it seems that your husband is forcibly getting that by babying you.

You feel insulted that he watches you like a hawk. You cheat which means that he has no real reason to trust you...which gives him the basis for the hawk behavior. But you cheat because of a huge issue in the marriage. Around and around it goes.