Visionworks Doctors of Optometry

Dear Almost Friends at Visionworks,
I wanted our relationship to work. Having experienced both the overpriced incompetence of Lenscrafters and the «If it sounds too good to be true, then it’s probably not true» prices of places like America’s Best Value and Eyeglass World, I embraced your advertising as a comfortable middle ground.
So, I entered your Castleton Square location today with enthusiasm and a readiness to purchase a pair of glasses.
But, oh my, within moments you damaged our relationship beyond repair when your young, undeniably fashionable salesman responded to my inquiry about whether or not Visionworks took my insurance with the question «Is it Medicaid?»
Ouch. This may seem like an innocent inquiry to you, but it’s not. It’s really, really not.
As a paraplegic/​double amputee who has spent years of my life working when I did, in fact, have the choice of living on disability, the question «Is it Medicaid?» was a huge stereotype, a biased inquiry made even more hurtful by an almost flippant and ignorant tone that made it quite clear to me he truly assumed that because I was in a wheelchair and, yes, because I was dressed very casually that I «must» be on Medicaid.
Of course, I quickly corrected him and assured him that «No, my insurance is not Medicaid» and, I responded with my employer, an employer whom I’m fairly sure pays their employees more than you pay your retail employees.
I apologize if that’s a slight dig, but I’m still more than a little bothered.
I suppose I considered it more than a little odd, as well, because at the time of the inquiry I happened to be exploring your high-​end frame section — not because I was fantasizing, but because I could actually afford them.
I tried to muddle my way through the deep offense I took to this inquiry and, in fact, learned that you do actually take my insurance. So, there you have it. My business was there for the taking if you could only overcome that initial faux pas.
Heck, I’d even found a pair of frames I really liked. Of course, you didn’t really know that because this young, fashionable yet completely clueless salesperson seemed to have tired of me after a few denied frames and went off to work elsewhere behind the counter. So, by the time I went back to the counter and asked him what I would need to do in terms of providing a prescription if I was interested in purchasing glasses, I had already resolved to give it a day’s thought to allow myself to cool off and decide if these glasses were really «the one.»
Then, of course, I learned that you had already committed the final act that would dissolve our relationship — your salesman, trying to be helpful I suppose, informed me that he would cancel my authorization as having that would «get in my way» elsewhere.
Um, what?
I asked you merely tell me if you took my insurance. I didn’t ask you to pre-​authorize anything. Did you automatically assume that I would surely be so completely captivated by your frame selection that I would ignore being insulted and ignored? Oh, and by the way, please don’t tell me that’s standard practice as I’m most assuredly not an idiot and I’ve been dealing with this insurance for years. You went an extra step, an unauthorized step, and could have easily impacted my ability to turn around and buy a pair elsewhere should I so choose.
So, despite my relative fondness for your frames and my hope that you would serve as a competent, yet fiscally responsible middle ground in my search for new glasses, I left your store mumbling «Maybe Lenscrafters isn’t so bad afterall.»
Fortunately, that feeling quickly went away.
I suppose Visionworks is a good name for you. After all, after only a few minutes I certainly saw the light and took my business elsewhere.