MONKEYSAYS

Mingling at a social function, I found myself next to The Eye Doctor.

"How are your eyes?" he asked.

"Fine," I said.

"You're getting up there," he said. "You really ought to come in for an exam."

"I'm fine," I said.

"Can you read small print?" he asked.

"It was getting fuzzy," I said. "So about a year ago I went to the drug store and bought a cheap pair of reading glasses off the rack. Now I'm fine."

"If you say so," he demurred, "but you really should have them looked at."

"Why," I asked. "Is there anything you can do to reverse the process?"

"Not really," The Eye Doctor said. "It's a natural function of age; the eyes progressively their ability to focus. We can't change that."

"So, all I can hope for is that I die before I go blind," I said.

"Right," he said.

"I don't think I'll be coming in," I said.

"You could have glaucoma," The Eye Doctor said. "Do you ever feel any pressure"?

"I do," I said. "But not on my eyes."

"I have a question," I said.

"Yes," LZ said.

"I went to a clothes store at lunch time," I said.

"My God," LZ replied. "What could have possessed you?"

"That impending wedding," I said. "I can't go in cargo shorts and a faded golf shirt, can I? And aren't I the one with the question?"

"No and yes," LZ said.

"What's the difference between a sport coat and a blazer?" I asked.

"Is there?" LZ parried.

"They're in different sections, so there must be a difference," I said.

"I think a blazer is probably gayer that a sport coat," LZ said.

"Then which one should I buy?" I asked.