Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Living On A Fish Island

Sorry, I mean "in a fish-eye lens". (It's a Mondegreen, you know.) Right about now I feel like I'm stuck in a camera eye, and I have no heart to lie.

A few weeks ago, Lileks regaled us with tales of his ongoing struggle against the makers of poorly constructed vision correction devices. I hear you, pal. Last night I raced to Wal-Mart to pick up my new glasses. The old ones were about four years old, and the anti-reflective coating was starting to break down. The resulting imperfection in the lenses made it difficult to see directly ahead, which consequently led to minor headaches. Had I waited any longer, I might now be walking around squinting so as not to bump into telephone poles or moving vehicles.

The Wal-Mart lady called about 25 minutes before closing time, and as I did not want to wait longer than necessary I arrived at her workstation some fifteen minutes later. As soon as I put the glasses on, I knew something was wrong. Objects were clearer, but words seemed blurrier. I could see just fine out of either eye with one eye open, but getting either eye to cooperate with the other was tricky. It's a new prescription, and I've had 24 hours to get used to it.

The prescription doesn't seem to be the problem. It's the frames. Either they are too loose and need to be adjusted, or my head is too long and needs to be squeezed to make the glasses fit. Either way, I have been driven to distraction all day long and thus haven't been in the mood for blogging. Unless of course I'm blogging about my new glasses that have been making me go bonkers.

Incidentally, have you noticed that frames have been getting smaller and more rectangular over the last few years? Everything in the shop looks like a pair of granny glasses. I'm not much fond of that look. It's a little too new agey for me. In a few years, all glasses are going to have that single visor slot, like Cyclops from the X-Men, or the late lamented Grand Wizard of Wrestling.

Before that happens, I intend to return to Wal-Mart and see about upping the comfort level on these frames. Speaking of comfort, the lady at Wal-Mart called me "Honey" last night. Some people hate that, and think it's demeaning. I liked it. It makes me feel welcome. Unfortunately it was closing time and in all likelihood she was just pouring on the sweetness to get me out of there. Seeing as how her shift was ending, I could have continued the conversation by asking her out for a meal right then and there. However, I was already fed and already married. Her loss.

But if I go back tomorrow and she is on duty, and she calls me something else like "Sugarplum", I really am going to feel like I've been customer serviced.

No comments: