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What time is it you ask? It’s appears it is time to visit the eye doctor again. No, Loki hasn’t feasted upon yet another pair of my spectacles. My eyes however, have seemed to have mutated once again. My left eye is somewhat clear while my right is now almost 40% blurry all the time. This is making reading things from a distance of about 7ft a chore, and anything over 20ft near impossible. So, tomorrow morning…er…this morning…around 11am let’s say, we’re going to call the eye doctor and see if we can make an appointment for this Friday. I really don’t want to get new glasses as I am a cheap bastard frugal shopper, but considering about 30% of the black paint on my frames is gone and now I can’t see…I think it’s time.

I am really hoping I can get an appointment for Friday since Jess is off and she can be my voice of sanity when picking out frames. Whenever I go to pick out new frames I always end up liking ones that my wife says look horrible on me. Then of course, I hate all the ones she picks out for me. Then somewhere amid the chaos and fury of frames being traded back and forth, we come across that one pair. Ah yes, that one pair just like the One Ring that was destined to rule them all. The other frames bow to its superiority and envy its ability to not only have the seal of approval from my wife, but my blessing to decorate my face as well. And then of course we look at the price tag. 9 out of 10 times these frames are worth more than my current motor vehicle…washed…and waxed…with a full tank of gas. Which brings me to another thing about getting new glasses…

I know this is all part of the process, but think about this. Without my glasses I am literally as blind as Stevie Wonder. Now, I need to take my glasses off to try on these frames with no prescription lenses in them at all, and try to look at myself in the world’s smallest mirror with the world’s worst lighting and determine if these look good enough to wear every day of my life until my next ocular mutation. I know there’s really no easy way around this step, but you’ve got to admit that this is one fucked up way to pick out glasses. It’s like putting in ear plugs, going to the music store, and then getting to hear 5 second samples of a CD you will be forced to broadcast everyday, for the next, let’s say, 2 years of your life. You’re can’t make a sound, rational decision when you’re impaired like that. And then there’s an even more evil side to the whole process…

One of the last times Loki ate my glasses, I decided to go by myself to get new glasses. I still had contacts so I was pretty sure I could pick out decent frames without the help of my wife. I went to the store and proceded to try on every pair, including random people’s who just happened to walk into the store. Once the selection process narrowed down the selection to my top 3, I stood at that tiny, tiny mirror and proceeded to play what I call the Clark Kent/Superman game. Glasses on, glasses off. Glasses on, glasses off. (you get the idea) After doing this for about 10 minutes a rather attractive clerk came over and asked if I needed help. I laughed and said that I can’t decide between the frames. Being quite good and what she was being paid to do (flirt), she told me she liked pair ‘A’ the best. Without a second guess, I handed her the frames and told her to slap some lenses in them. Two hours later when I got home my wife took one look at me and asked me what the hell I was thinking. I tried my best to explain that I had it all under control until this clerk came over and gave me their opinion. Only one phrase came out of her mouth next.

“She was cute, wasn’t she?”

Powerless, I hung my head in shame. “Yes. I was weak.” She just shook her head and walked away.

Later, I asked her if she was mad. She laughed and said “Why should I be mad? You’re the one with the ugly glasses!”

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