Wednesday, March 06, 2013
I haven't gotten new glasses for probably three years, now. Because my sweat is some kind of industrial strength acid or something, the color on the side of my current pair has been fading and looks really washed out. I got my eyes tested in December and found shit's fortunately not getting any worse. But the frames they had at Lens Crafters were shit. I don't want the hipster thick frames anymore because that's what every asshole in Riverwest has. so I set out last week to the upscale place across from the public market, telling the lady I didn't want any hipster bullshit horned rimmed frames. She at first starts me with these ridiculous circular lensed frames. Many pairs, even after I show no interest because of how goofy they look. I considered doing my best Samuel L. Jackson to tell her "Show me one more pair of goofy glasses" because I have no interest in looking like a fucking anorexic Winston Churchill. After an hour of trying shit, I find one that looks somewhat normal on me.
When I bought my last pair, I had help choosing the ones that looked best on me, although it probably wasn't an objective audience. Best case scenario, upon getting back to work, she says: "Damn, I'd hit that!".
What really happens: "Wow, lookin' goooood." My own brain won't let me have this one, just once, and only accepts that as nothing more than empty platitudes because the inflection in her voice screamed sarcastic. I dressed nice for the occasion, nicer than normal for Wednesday, hoping for a more extremely positive reaction, which I would parlay into asking if she would like to go to the the weird puppet show thing this weekend, which I went to earlier this week and enjoyed, even though it wasn't as good as the Night of the Living Dead show they performed on Halloween.
said Tommy T. at 12:46 PM - #
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When I bought my last pair, I had help choosing the ones that looked best on me, although it probably wasn't an objective audience. Best case scenario, upon getting back to work, she says: "Damn, I'd hit that!".
What really happens: "Wow, lookin' goooood." My own brain won't let me have this one, just once, and only accepts that as nothing more than empty platitudes because the inflection in her voice screamed sarcastic. I dressed nice for the occasion, nicer than normal for Wednesday, hoping for a more extremely positive reaction, which I would parlay into asking if she would like to go to the the weird puppet show thing this weekend, which I went to earlier this week and enjoyed, even though it wasn't as good as the Night of the Living Dead show they performed on Halloween.
said Tommy T. at 12:46 PM - #
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