No, I Can't See The Point
As everyone knows, when you get older your vision usually drops off. Things don’t look as clear as they once did, and some things are just to fuzzy to ever recognize. This is why old men in bars smile at all of the women; they can’t tell which one is their wife. And since I do not want to be one of those old men, I have to have an aid to correct my vision.
I used the word “aid” because there is more than one choice now. People can get contacts, even in several colors, they can get surgery, or they can glasses. Some probably get more than one of those, though if you got all three you might be over do-ing it a bit.
For the last few years I have worn glasses. I tried contacts, but they kept falling out of my eyes, and those things are hard to find, especially if are on the front row of the local mud-wrasslin tournament. And surgery, well, let’s just say I am scared of wearing an eye patch. No one likes pirates anyway.
Anywho, earlier this week my glasses broke. This is because I put them under the car when I was changing the oil. They work very well at keeping the dirt from falling into my eyes. Alas, though, they do not work as well with tire tracks on them.
Broke glasses mean one thing: a trip to the eye doctor. The eye doctor isn’t too bad to visit, with the exception of that puff of air he shoots into your eyes. He says that is to test for glaucoma, but I figure it is because he is secretly sadistic. Most sadistic people go on to be dentists, but heck, with those shaky hands, my doctor probably flunked drilling 101.
After the examination, you have the really rotten part to do: pick out glasses. Some of you who don’t have glasses probably think this would be easy, and I suspect it is, as long as you don’t have anyone with you. However, I can never do anything by myself, or at least that is what I am told repeatedly.
So, I sat in his office and tried on 430 pairs of glasses. And I get to listen to 430 reviews of what they all look like. Some are too big and look like Elvis. Some are too round and look like the Beatles. Some rims are too thick and make me look like a geek. So make me look old, and some make me look like an old guy trying to look young.
For hours, I tried on pair after pair, constantly being apprised of the fashion statement I was making with each pair. Soon I had had enough, and made my decision: I would get a pair exactly like the ones I had. This was great except the ones I had were not made anymore, and I would only have to change colors, shapes, and sizes to get something similar. Some days, you are just better off not leaving the house!
In the end, I just went back to my office and dug out a pair of glasses that I had before I bought the last pair of glasses. Sure they look old and run down, but at least they did not require a stamp of approval from the fashion police. Of course, they make me look funny when I am walking, as my knees go really high in the air because the floor looks closer than it really is. At least I am assuming that fuzzy thing is the floor.
Oh geez. It looks like I might just become a pirate after all.
I used the word “aid” because there is more than one choice now. People can get contacts, even in several colors, they can get surgery, or they can glasses. Some probably get more than one of those, though if you got all three you might be over do-ing it a bit.
For the last few years I have worn glasses. I tried contacts, but they kept falling out of my eyes, and those things are hard to find, especially if are on the front row of the local mud-wrasslin tournament. And surgery, well, let’s just say I am scared of wearing an eye patch. No one likes pirates anyway.
Anywho, earlier this week my glasses broke. This is because I put them under the car when I was changing the oil. They work very well at keeping the dirt from falling into my eyes. Alas, though, they do not work as well with tire tracks on them.
Broke glasses mean one thing: a trip to the eye doctor. The eye doctor isn’t too bad to visit, with the exception of that puff of air he shoots into your eyes. He says that is to test for glaucoma, but I figure it is because he is secretly sadistic. Most sadistic people go on to be dentists, but heck, with those shaky hands, my doctor probably flunked drilling 101.
After the examination, you have the really rotten part to do: pick out glasses. Some of you who don’t have glasses probably think this would be easy, and I suspect it is, as long as you don’t have anyone with you. However, I can never do anything by myself, or at least that is what I am told repeatedly.
So, I sat in his office and tried on 430 pairs of glasses. And I get to listen to 430 reviews of what they all look like. Some are too big and look like Elvis. Some are too round and look like the Beatles. Some rims are too thick and make me look like a geek. So make me look old, and some make me look like an old guy trying to look young.
For hours, I tried on pair after pair, constantly being apprised of the fashion statement I was making with each pair. Soon I had had enough, and made my decision: I would get a pair exactly like the ones I had. This was great except the ones I had were not made anymore, and I would only have to change colors, shapes, and sizes to get something similar. Some days, you are just better off not leaving the house!
In the end, I just went back to my office and dug out a pair of glasses that I had before I bought the last pair of glasses. Sure they look old and run down, but at least they did not require a stamp of approval from the fashion police. Of course, they make me look funny when I am walking, as my knees go really high in the air because the floor looks closer than it really is. At least I am assuming that fuzzy thing is the floor.
Oh geez. It looks like I might just become a pirate after all.
posted by Rick Quick | 1:01 PM
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