An artist needed glasses, but like many artists, she didn’t have health insurance.
An ophthalmologist who admired her work offered a deal: he’d cover the cost of everything except the office visit if she’d paint a mural in his waiting room.
Two weeks later, the artist had her new glasses and spent the weekend painting the mural. On Monday, the doctor and his staff arrived, eager to see what she’d created.
The artist proudly ushered them in. Every wall was covered with eyes — some open, some closed, some long-lashed, in shades of brown, blue, green, and hazel. One even had a single teardrop.
“So,” asked the artist, “what do you think?”
The doctor paused, looked around the room, and said, “I think I’m glad I’m not a gynecologist.”
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