I had an eye exam this morning, and ordered new contacts and two pairs of new glasses, because there was a sale.
Ordering glasses is usually a disappointment to me, because I’ve never really gotten a pair I liked since I got old enough to pick out and purchase my own, because it’s hard to pick out glasses when you can’t see them. To see the glasses clearly and in focus, I have to get so close to the mirror that my face loses all cohesion as a unit. The glasses are in focus, an eye, maybe an eyebrow, but that’s it.
That means I’m not picking out glasses based on how they look on my face. I’m picking them out based on how they look on what I think my face looks like, and, as the poor eyeglasses lady found out today, that’s not always a good thing.
“What about these? They’re kind of round.”
“These are tiny. My head is huge. Do I look like Archie’s principal in these? Be honest.”
“Uh… maybe these. They’re hip, and kind of funky.”
“They look like Buddy Holly glasses.”
“Do you… like Buddy Holly?”
“Of course. But if I wear these, I’m gonna look like the old fat Buddy Holly that nobody wants to put on a stamp. These glasses are totally going to Elvis me, but with Buddy Holly.”
“Uh… why don’t you look around, and see if there’s anything you like, instead of me making suggestions. Then you can try them on and I’ll tell you what they look like.”
“That should work.”
Except that it hasn’t for the last twenty years, so I have no faith that it will now, either. I give that girl credit for trying, though.