(A dim little room. An optician, a highly focused, no-nonsense woman, is helping a PATIENT Uh huh. PATIENT OPTICIAN It won’t hurt. PATIENT OPTICIAN PATIENT (She wipes his face impassively. He lets out a tiny, surprised laugh.) (The patient sheepishly, blinkingly opens his eyes. The optician darts in and drops a (Drop.) Stop closing your eyes. (Drop. He tries to sit up. interview, or my—even my fiancée, or or, of a person suddenly ripping my glasses
Look
young man learn to put in contacts. They’ve been here for a few minutes already.
They sit at a table with the tools of the trade on it: contact solution, artificial tears,
tissues, contact box. Two chairs. A little sink in the back corner, maybe cabinets. And
a blank frame, facing the audience, which is a mirror. He laughs nervously.)
PATIENT
I swear I’m gonna get this in like thirty seconds, it’s just a little weird touching my
eye.
OPTICIAN
It takes some people a while.
(He takes a breath, looks towards us into the ‘mirror’ and gets the contact arranged
on his finger. He rearranges on his finger. Again.)
OPTICIAN
You don’t want to touch it too much. Put it in the solution and try again.
(He does. Swishes it, and again the little complicated fingertip arrangement)
PATIENT
I keep worrying that I’m gonna rip it with my fingernail.
OPTICIAN
That can happen.
PATIENT
Oh man. Do I just, do they send me another one, if I rip it? Like once I learn how to
do it and take them home.
OPTICIAN
You can re-order, but your insurance will only cover a certain number of disposable
lenses per year.
(He arranges it on the tip of his finger and looks to her for approval.)
PATIENT
Is that looking right?
OPTICIAN
Yes. The edges should curl slightly up, not out. Bowl. Not plate. You don’t want to put
it on backwards.
Could something bad happen?
OPTICIAN
It could get stuck in the corner of your eye. Move around on the eye. The seal would
be imperfect.
PATIENT
Oh.
Okay, I’m gonna try.
(Looking nervously into the mirror, he holds his eye open with one hand and moves
the lens shakily toward it with the other. He keeps flinching and closing his eye
involuntarily. Eventually, he looks sheepishly to her for help.)
PATIENT
I’m, uh…
OPTICIAN
You were trying to put your left lens in your right eye.
PATIENT
Oh. Sorry.
OPTICIAN
It’ll go in, but it’s the wrong prescription. You have an asymmetry. You have to pay
attention.
PATIENT
No, right, absolutely. I remember the part about not sleeping in them, at least.
OPTICIAN
No napping either.
PATIENT
Right, no napping. And I’ll label the lenses.
OPTICIAN
Try again. Put another drop of solution in to keep it hydrated.
(The patient does. He’s trying really, really hard. No result.)
OPTICIAN
You’re right-handed, correct?
PATIENT
OPTICIAN
Hold your upper lid open with the left middle finger, your lower lid open with your
right middle finger, and place the lens with your right index finger.
PATIENT
Okay. Okay.
(He does that. It doesn’t really help.
He wipes at his eye with his knuckle, then tries again. Nothing.
He looks at the optician, who gives him no reaction.
He goes back to trying.
He gets really serious about it. In a whole world of focus. He involuntarily opens his
mouth and tips his head to the side while trying to keep his eye open.
It works a little better. The lens touches his eye, but he immediately jerks back and
drops it on the table, eyes squinched shut. He wipes at his eyes again.)
PATIENT
God, I’m so sorry, I know this was supposed to take like twenty minutes…
OPTICIAN
You’re my last patient. I’m closing the office. So this can run long.
Wash that off again.
(The patient washes the lens again and arranges it on his fingertip again.
He tries and immediately fails.)
PATIENT
Do I just have, uh, really sensitive eyes or something? Is this a thing you see a lot?
OPTICIAN
It comes up. Most people can get around the reflex in about ten minutes. I’m of the
opinion it’s mostly psychological.
PATIENT
Got any tricks up your sleeve? I feel like I’m Clockwork Orange-ing myself.
OPTICIAN
Please don’t reference that film.
PATIENT
I’m sorry.
OPTICIAN
I am very, very tired of hearing that film referenced.
Gotcha.
OPTICIAN
I do have a technique that works for some people. It can help desensitize the eye
reflexes. One moment.
(She steps to a little sink and re-washes her hands.
For a little longer than handwashing usually takes. The patient is getting more and
more nervous.
She scoots a chair towards him, moving it with her feet and legs, hands up, and
imperiously scoots his legs as well so he’s facing her. Their knees touch.)
OPTICIAN
Hold your head still. I am not going to touch your eye.
PATIENT
Okay.
(The optician holds his eye open and moves her index finger very close to it. He
flinches back.)
PATIENT
Jeez. I’m sorry. Okay.
OPTICIAN
I’m not going to touch your eye.
PATIENT
I know.
OPTICIAN
I need you to believe it.
PATIENT
Gotcha. Yes. Okay.
(She holds his eye open again. She very, very, very slowly moves her finger towards
his eye from a distance.
It takes a very long time.
The patient is becoming visibly more and more nervous as it approaches.)
PATIENT
I’m sorry to be keeping you late, I feel bad about it.
I don’t mind. I enjoy challenging patients.
PATIENT
I usually pick things up really quickly.
OPTICIAN
I would have guessed.
PATIENT
Why?
OPTICIAN
You’re approaching the process as doing-to-your-eye, rather than as accepting-
from-your-hand.
PATIENT
Oh. Uh. I’m not sure—
OPTICIAN
Thinking about it as a receptive activity can sometimes help people bypass the
instinctive rejection.
PATIENT
That makes sense.
OPTICIAN
So this exercise will help you rearrange that for yourself.
PATIENT
Is that making your arm tired—?
OPTICIAN
No.
(The hand continues to approach the eye.)
OPTICIAN
Are you feeling distressed?
PATIENT
I’ve, uh, felt more comfortable.
OPTICIAN
Remember.
It’s not going to touch you.
PATIENT
I know.
OPTICIAN
Unclench your hands. Unclench your toes.
PATIENT
Got it.
(He unclenches his hands.)
OPTICIAN
Unclench your toes.
PATIENT
How could you tell?
OPTICIAN
Your shoulders.
When you think of the object coming toward your eye, you’re thinking of it as an
object.
A thing.
Going into your eye.
PATIENT
Yeah.
OPTICIAN
Think of it as sight coming towards you. A great gift. A gift that brings with it some
struggle, some discomfort. But so do all gifts.
PATIENT
Yeah.
OPTICIAN
Imaging that the very tip of my finger has a blessing on it, the blessing of sight, and
that when it touches you, it’ll ripple out, and all the fear will be gone, and your vision
will be perfect.
PATIENT
Okay.
OPTICIAN
You’re not imagining it.
I’m trying!
(She is very near.)
OPTICIAN
Imagine it now.
The sight returning.
The clarity.
(Barely any distance between the finger and the eye. They’re totally still, barely
breathing for a moment. She drops her hand, startling him. She stands briskly,
scooting the chair back, and grabs a bottle of fake tears from the array of materials
on the table.)
PATIENT
Should I try again, or—?
OPTICIAN
Tip your head back.
(He does. She comes up behind him with the bottle.)
OPTICIAN
Further. I’m going to put artificial tear drops in your eyes to get you used to some of
the physical sensation.
PATIENT
Okay.
You’re sure I’m not keeping you too late? Because I can come back.
OPTICIAN
If you want to. Your insurance will only pay for one consultation with me.
PATIENT
Oh.
OPTICIAN
And I largely find that if people are going to get it, they get it in the first lesson. It
may have to be a long one. But a lot of little lessons tends to wear down people’s
confidence. And wallets. They go off by themselves and get discouraged about it.
PATIENT
I gotta be real with you, I’m not terribly encouraged about it.
Exactly. You don’t have to be encouraged right now. Later you will, by yourself. But
that’s not terribly important at the moment.
PATIENT
Okay. Just, uh, let me know. If you have to go home.
OPTICIAN
You’re committed to getting this right, aren’t you?
PATIENT
No, I am.
OPTICIAN
Because I don’t want to waste my time if it’s not something you’re committed to.
PATIENT
I absolutely am. I’ve been thinking about it for years, but haven’t really had a reason
to until now.
OPTICIAN
Close your eyes. I’m going to drop the tears on your eyelids. They’ll pool by your
corneas. Then open your eyes and let the liquid run in.
PATIENT
Okay. I can do that.
OPTICIAN
Close.
(She drops the tears onto his closed eyes. He flinches minutely, just his
hands.)
Open.
(He blinks rapidly, sitting up for a second and wiping his eyes. The fake tears
run down; he mops them with his shirtsleeves.
The optician hands him a tissue.)
Close again.
(He turns his neck from side to side, then tips his head back again.)
Close.
Does it hurt your neck to lean back?
PATIENT
Uh, a little. It’s fine.
OPTICIAN
I can support your head.
That’d be great if you could.
(She holds his head in her left hand and brings up the tear dropper with her right.
She repeats the process.)
OPTICIAN
Open.
(He opens his eyes, uncomfortable again, and instinctively leans forward. She
keeps him back.)
Stay there. I don’t want your rubbing your eyes too much. They’ll get swollen.
PATIENT
Okay.
(She grabs a tissue and wipes the fake tears.)
OPTICIAN
This is a brand without preservatives. So they shouldn’t irritate your eyes.
PATIENT
Okay.
OPTICIAN
I’m going to do this a few times. You don’t need to do anything, just open and close
your eyes when I tell you.
Think about your reason for making this decision.
PATIENT
I want to see the fishes underwater. My, um, my fiancée, we’re going on a vacation,
and we—I don’t really do vacations. Previously haven’t done vacations. But she
loves scuba diving, snorkeling, all that stuff, and we’re going to Florida, and it’s
really important to her—
OPTICIAN
Close.
PATIENT
—and she just lights up when she talks about it, you know. And you can’t exactly
wear glasses—
OPTICIAN
Open.
PATIENT
—under a mask. So I kind of.
I feel like you’re about to wash my hair.
(She steps back.)
OPTICIAN
Excuse me?
(She’s pissed. He straightens up again, aghast.)
PATIENT
I’m sorry. Just, like, whenever I’ve had my head tipped back, uh, in a chair, I’ve…it’s
been at Supercuts or whatever. And they wash your hair in the sink before cutting
your hair. It just reminded me of it for a second. That position. For just a second. I’m
sorry.
OPTICIAN
I’m not a haircutter.
PATIENT
No, I know, I know—and my sister is a hairstylist, so like not like it’s a bad thing to
be at all, of course—
OPTICIAN
I’d prefer if you remained focused on your task. This won’t work if you don’t.
PATIENT
No, of course. Won’t happen again. Just a passing thought.
(She regards him coldly for a second, then drops it. She moves forward and puts her
hand to the back of his head. He tips back into his previous position, a little more
tense.)
OPTICIAN
Now we’re going to do this with your eyes open. This will feel a little uncomfortable.
But afterwards you will have a much better tolerance.
PATIENT
Uh—okay.
OPTICIAN
Open your eyes.
Open.
tear into his eye. He flinches back into her hand. She gets a firmer grip on his head,
holding him by the chin, resting the back of his head on her torso.)
PATIENT
Uch—can I sit up for a minute?
OPTICIAN
I need you to be a little patient.
PATIENT
…Okay.
OPTICIAN
Say more about why you want this.
Not why it would make your fiancée happy for you to want this or have this.
Why you want this.
PATIENT
I mean, that’s really the main reason.
OPTICIAN
You thought about it before the scuba diving entered the picture.
PATIENT
I mean, yes, I’ve been aware of it as an—
(She drops another drop. He flinches but keeps going.)
An option.
And you know, hard to accidentally have your contacts knocked off your face on the
bus.
OPTICIAN
Did that happen to you, or are you just afraid of it happening to you?
PATIENT
I’m not afraid of it.
I’ve considered it.
(Drop.)
OPTICIAN
Your vision is terrible.
PATIENT
I know.
OPTICIAN
Don’t get smart with me. I’m doing you a favor.
PATIENT
Sorry—
OPTICIAN
You would have been functionally blind in most societies and most time periods
prior to our own.
When did you get glasses?
PATIENT
I was really little, like I don’t really even remember—
(Drop.)
Five. About five. I was going to go into first grade and I was behind on, like, I couldn’t
write my name yet—
OPTICIAN
But after that you accelerated. Like a miracle.
PATIENT
Yeah. I learned to read in like a week. Like that. I must be misremembering.
Probably not that fast. But it felt like that fast.
OPTICIAN
Everyone was proud.
PATIENT
Yeah. They—
Yeah.
(Drop.)
OPTICIAN
Stop closing your eyes.
Have you seen yourself in the mirror without glasses?
PATIENT
I’ve seen pictures of myself without them. And, if, like if I get really really close to the
mirror, I can kind of see…
(Drop. A bigger flinch. Wipe.)
OPTICIAN
So you’ve seen how other people see you without glasses. But not how you would
see yourself without them.
PATIENT
I guess.
(Drop. Wipe.)
OPTICIAN
Stop closing your eyes. Stop trying to sit up.
PATIENT
I’m trying.
OPTICIAN
Try harder.
Do you think you’ll be more handsome without glasses?
PATIENT
I don’t know. I mean—
(Drop.)
I’m not. I don’t know.
OPTICIAN
Guess.
PATIENT
I mean, that would be nice?
(Drop.)
OPTICIAN
How long have you been thinking about this?
PATIENT
I don’t know! I don’t know, I just—I was always just scared of sticking something in
my eye. For good reason!
(Drop.)
OPTICIAN
Do you worry she doesn’t think you’re handsome anymore?
(Drop.)
Do you think this will help?
He could sit up if he really tried.
He only tries a little bit.)
PATIENT
I don’t really want to—
OPTICIAN
I need you to take this seriously for it to work.
PATIENT
I mean. It crosses my mind.
I want to look nice.
I’m not like. I’m not exactly a Casanova.
Everyone likes to think of themselves. As a little bit better.
(Drop. Drop. Drop.)
That’s—it kind of stings.
OPTICIAN
It’ll stop in a second.
PATIENT
I um.
I don’t know.
OPTICIAN
Just answer.
PATIENT
I don’t think I’m ugly or whatever, I or if I did I wouldn’t care, that’s not like—that’s
not the most important—
(Drop drop drop drop. No Kleenex. He twists his face a little bit, closes his eyes. His
head is kept securely in place.)
OPTICIAN
Open your eyes.
PATIENT
And it’s not like, like nobody made fun of me or whatever, it was just always—a part
of my face. A part of my body. And I wanted to be. I don’t know. I would get so
scared of losing my glasses. Because I can’t—I can’t do anything.
(A rain of drops.)
And I’d be—
I’d think a lot, and I didn’t want to think that thought but it kept popping up all the
time, all the time, of, just, a person walking by me on the sidewalk, or in a job
off my face and stepping on them. Crushing them. And I’d just stand there—and I
tried to not think about it—but I kept thinking about it—
(He gasps, twists his head successfully away, sits up. He starts crying a little,
shocked at himself. He grabs a fistful of tissues and scrubs his face with them,
mortified.
The collar of his shirt is wet from the fake tears; the front of her shirt where she was
keeping his head is too.
She stands placidly behind him.
He stops crying. He sits spacy and tired and surprised, about to apologize but never
quite starting to.
The optician sits in the chair next to him, fishing around in the arrangements. She
gently turns his chin and, without any fuss or resistance, puts a contact into his right
eye.)
OPTICIAN
Blink.
Slowly.
Look up.
Look down.
Good.
Now you do that one.
(His hands are not steady. He is surprised by the mussed person in the mirror. He
makes a good faith effort, drops it.
She washes the contact off; places it on his finger.
He tries again.
It’s hard.
He gets it in, blinks awkwardly, grimacing.)
PATIENT
It’s sliding—
(The optician calmly reaches over and adjusts the contact on his eye.)
OPTICIAN
Blink. Slowly.
Good.
Look.
(He looks at himself in the mirror. Wipes his face again with his sleeve.)
PATIENT
Oh.
Good.
Now you’re going to learn how to take them out.
END
OPTICIAN
About the Author
Katie Eiler is a playwright living and working in the LA. Her play Crunch was produced at the 2018 Son of Semele Company Creation Festival and the 2018 Los Angeles Fringe Festival. She has had work featured at Serial Killers at Sacred Fools in Los Angeles, a staged reading of a short play, Balm, at the Samuel French Bookstore Short Play Series, and a reading of her play Ill Humors by the Bats company of actors from the Flea Theater in New York.