Opthalmic Euphemisms

Or: Why Boys Don't Grab the Asses of Girls Who Wear Glasses

The last time I was at the optometrist I had 20/15 vision (with a slight astigmatism, no need for correction) and told not to come back for two years...at which time I'd once again have my eyes dilated so as to look like Courtney Love on a crack binge.

That time was this morning. I'd found a new doctor, walked into the office and...was the only pasty girl there - if you know what I mean. And I think you do.

The receptionist, the optician, the filing person and both waiting patients were beautiful shades of mocha, cafe au lait and cocoa. And they all just stared at my pale pinkness. So I thought, "Hnugh" and sat down.

Had my eye exam and again scored a perfect 20/15 on the fill-in-the-blank part of the test.

Yes! Another year without glasses.

Until the multiple choice part of the exam.

"Which is clearer - number one or number two? Number three or number four?"

Can't I just write an essay?

The test over, he looks at me and says, "Hold this card out to about where your computer monitor sits, and read it."

Piece of cake. "Doris jumped when she heard the doorbell...."

"Now I'm going to make you this funny looking pair of glasses. Put them on and read it again.

"Doris...HOLY CRAP. Are you kidding me? Did you turn up the lights? This type is in 3-D!"

"Yeah, you have an astigmatism in each eye. You really should get some computer glasses."

Me: "Is 'computer glasses' a euphemism for 'over-forty reading glasses?"

Him: "Ahhh...Pretty much, yeah, because you'll need them to read as well."

Me: "Shit."

Him: "Yeah."

So I go out to the optician - whose name is IRIS - and she leads me over to the shiny cases full of frames.

"I always kind of thought that if I ever needed glasses again, I'd get red frames."

"RED? Why do you want red?"

"I don't know, red glasses are sassy."

"Well okay, Sally Jesse, we'll find you some red glasses."

Six pairs of glasses later I said, "I guess I can live without red."

"Mmmm-hmmm."

So she looks me up and down and asks, "Do you dress like that every day?"

"What? Um, yes?"

I get the stare. I look down and I'm decked out from head to toe in my favorite color - grey.

"Well, I also wear a lot of, you know, black. And brown. Oh! And blue. Sometimes I mix it up with a blue blouse. Or a scarf! I have scarves!"

The stare. "You do need some color."

And so began the second phase of an ocular-ly, emotionally and financially painful process.

Iris was amazing. A total pro. She'd throw a half dozen frames onto the counter, I'd reach for one and she'd say, "Ah-ah. Not that one" and take it out of my hand.

I'd put on something completely inappropriate and I'd get The Look.

We finally narrowed it down to two pair and we were both leaning toward the PINK CHROME frames. You kind of had to be there. The were beautiful, flattering, zippy without (believe it or not) too much flash.

In the end we decided finger prints would doom the chrome frames to a life of isolation in the glasses case. I'd be too OCD to put them on. She guessed that from the grey uniform.

New specs in a week. For you locals, try to control yourselves when you see me in them. They are smokin' hot.