Norman is color blind, which meant that he couldn’t pass the eye exam for special agents. Unfortunately, this isn’t something you can “fix,” and it meant that he couldn’t have the career he wanted.
For some, that would have been the end of it. They’d look for another position, or perhaps even a different career altogether. But that wasn’t Norman.
He wouldn’t attempt to bribe the doctor, or to forge the document. Those were too risky. But maybe he could just memorize the test beforehand?
So he acquired a set of the Ishihara color plate tests (those circle images with numbers “hidden” in a sea of colored dots, like the image below) and set off to memorize each and every one of them. But tried as he did, he just couldn’t do it.
He’d have to figure out another way to get the doctor to sign off somehow. He’d need to socially engineer his way to a passing grade.
So he did some “digging” and found out when the optometrist was going on vacation and secured the very last appointment of the day before the guy’s flight1.
He took his time using the restroom before they got started, then messed around by asking a bunch of random questions about the testing equipment and gadgets, stalling as he could.
He played it all off like the whole thing was just a ridiculous formality.
That he wasn’t here for an actual eye exam, just for the doc to quickly sign the damn paper so he could go back to doing actual work. Seriously, you’re making sit in the chair in front of all these silly contraptions? Come on, man.
When the doctor started the standard vision test, he shifted into aggressively sarcastic mode.
Doc: “Can you read the letters on this line for me?”
Dad: “Oh suuuure Doc, you got it… Let’s see, the first letter is an E. Then I think that one’s an A. That’s A as in asshole. Then a T. And that’s followed by an S… The next one is an H… Yep, H as in this is horseshit. And the next one is an I. How am I doing on this oh-so-important-exam, Doc? Am I passing?”
Doc: “Ok, that’s enough…”
Dad: “Are you sure, I think there are still some more letters up there. Let’s keep wasting more of everyone’s time and try some more. I can’t wait to see what this whole thing says!”
He acted like it was all so stupid and that the doc was intentionally messing with him by drawing this whole thing out, getting increasingly upset over the series of simple requests that are part of any standard eye exam. He pretended like it he was taking this exam as a very personal affront to him. That the guy was purposefully fucking with him.
The doctor eventually moved on, getting increasingly worried about the time, and trying to defend his process of…well…conducting a basic eye exam. He was flustered, concerned about how Norm was reacting, and now? Well, he was just trying to get done with this as quickly as possible.
They moved on to the color blindness test—the moment Norman had been building towards this entire time. It was time to pretend like he had finally had enough. This was the crescendo.
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!!” he angrily belted, fully insulted and frustrated that he had to even go through something as “INCREDIBLY STUPID” as saying numbers that were “CLEARLY OBVIOUS TO ANYONE WHO LOOKED AT THEM.”
“I’ve played along with all your bullshit, but I’m done with it. I’m not standing for this shit anymore.” He stood up, now towering over the doc.
The optometrist was beyond flustered by the whole interaction, let alone this new level of anger.
He stammered, unsure of what to do, then simply gave up and passed him.
This interaction wasn’t worth it, who knows bad it could get. He was not interested in seeing how this might escalate. After all, he just needed to get to the airport! He was going on vacation, and this shittiness stood between him and a mai tai on the beach. It was just a basic eye exam…ffs, he doesn’t get paid enough for this shit. This guy’s an asshole, and why do I care? He certainly seems like he can see the damn numbers. I’m going on vacation. Good luck, buddy. I’m outta here…
The optometrist signed the exam paperwork, and bolted for the door.
Norm had successfully bluffed his way thru the exam, drawing it out to create enough time pressure, then making the doctor as uncomfortable as possible, counting on him to eventually fold, skip the test, and pass him just so he could so he could race to catch his flight.
Being able to “cheat” his way into being an undercover special agent is, well, a damn good attribute and skill for that particular job. Far more impressive than picking out colored numbers, if you ask me.
- Damn, I should have found out how he did this, because it might be more impressive than the rest of the story. ↩︎
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