I’m going home later this month to be in my best friend Tracey’s wedding, and I decided that I might as well take advantage of all manner of cheap healthcare while I’m there, so I called up the ol’ family eye doctor the other day.
I’ve been going to this guy all my life and have been in love him almost as long, ’cause he used to put his hand on my knee and ask me how school was going back when all I knew was a bunch of boys who liked sports and listened to Ginuwine. And since I’ve been going to him all my life, I recognised his receptionist’s voice immediately when I called. Yet when she asked my name, I still spelled it out for her, as if everyone from my grandmother on down in my family doesn’t go there.
She asked, “Katie, what’s your license plate number?” I thought it must be a new way to identify patients in their computer system, so I thought for a second and then said, “Oh, wait, I don’t own a car anymore!” (I had to go on to mention that I now live in New York City, because this is obviously the only thing I have going for me.) She seemed disappointed and said, “My husband and I swore we were behind you the other day when we saw a license plate that said KTETTE.”
That’s right; my eye doctor’s receptionist thinks of me when she’s on the road. Don’t you love small towns?
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For a moment, I thought asking for a license plate number was like an impromptu eye test. Like, “Look out your window and see if you can read this license plate.” Wow, I’m slow.
You would sort of be the worst eye doctor ever.
“Can you see the Anytime Fitness across the parking lot? Good. I’d say that’s about 20/20 vision. Go on home.”
i’ve always wanted to live in a small town…but never have. it’s probably for the best, though. i’m sure i’d be blacked-balled within 16 seconds for not being able to whip up a green bean casserole for the weekly potluck. do small towns really have those?! and how about county fairs? i’ve always wanted to go to one of them…with a pie bake-off…
Sure, my family church has potlucks all the time, where all of the ladies bring green bean casserole and Waldorf salad.
I brought pigs and did a sewing project every year for the county fair and won prizes like crazy. It was seriously the highlight of my summer: seeing all of my boy-crushes outside of school, getting to wear western clothes to the pig judging, and eating all the carnival food I could handle.
My header picture is from the other county-fair-like yearly event in the next town over from mine back in Ohio. There’s a pie bake-off and contests for everything imaginable. I highly recommended a road trip (so you can write about it in your travel book, naturally).