My husband is sure that I am about to be banned from the eye doctor's office. Maybe, but I can't help myself. I'm a writer who majored in English. Words can mean so many different things. So sometimes I overanalyze questions a little, as was the case during my eye exam yesterday.
The doctor started clicking the dials a notch and asking me which was better: 1 or 2? I'd answer, he'd make adjustments, and then he'd ask me again, "Which is better: 3 or 4?"
I'd bite my lip and hesitate, just for a fraction of a second, and he'd get impatient. "Are they the same?"
"No."
He'd run through them again. "1 or 2?" I answered. "3 or 4?" I'd hesitate.
"Are they the same?" he demanded.
No, they weren't and I said so, though he told me that hesitations indicated to him that I couldn't tell the difference. He was wrong about that. I could see a big difference between the two lenses; I just couldn't say which was better.
Better. What a vague word. I finally told him that I couldn't decide which was better because I could read them both clearly, but in one frame, the letters were thin and precise like an Arial font and in the other, the letters were bolder and wider, but equally legible.
So you tell me, which is better: POTATO POTATO
Exactly! Please rephrase the question.
No comments:
Post a Comment