Eyeglasses

Mrs. Boogie was in need of a spectacular set of new spectacles. And as such, I was called upon to be present for the festivities. To be a source of comfort, give my honest opinion on whatever overpriced metals and plastics she puts on her face, and try to find something she's very happy with.

We've recently abandoned our last optical locale, a great source of comfort for many years, as such we're a little more vulnerable, and leery of any strange purveyor of fine eyewear. It's been a long time since we've even needed to set foot into one of these places. As such my tactical system is on high alert.

We walk into the establishment, the smell of strong perfumes and weak sterility filling the air. The women at the reception desk are an angry looking bunch. No medical training or optical professionals here. These women wake up every morning and thank their lucky stars that they're blind enough to get the work.

Yep blind. Everyone who works in this place is wearing glasses. I'm guessing most of these optician type places have standards similar to Hooters. Except instead of huge racks and bubbly personalities, we get combative women with corrective eyewear.

They don glasses of varying strangeness. The type of frames that the practical amongst us would probably never choose for ourselves. Loud colors sharp edges and fake diamonds hammered into the plastic. One almost suspects that they were given a dollar an hour raise if they picked something that was a bit more hip.

I turn my attention to my surroundings. Yards of mirror, tons of frames and weather-beaten furniture. But it was near the ceiling where the real fun was to be had. Renowned eyeglass frame manufacturers had paid to get models to pose with their product. It was a surreal thing to say the least, seeing these really beautiful people with really well done lighting, and wearing really stupid glasses. The sort with the sharp corners, and exaggerated edges. The kind of shit nobody in their right minds would wear on any day other than Halloween.

And make no delusions about it, these are professional models. Their whole fucking career is to stand still and look decent. You know these specs aren't something they wear on any kind of regular basis. The only reason they even put those monstrosities on their face is because some guy with a camera crew said "We'll pay you if you put these on." Shit, if the price was right, it could easily be a sea bass around the shoulders, or a half-empty can of tomato soup on the genitals. This is what they do.
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But hey, when you're browsing for glasses and in need of some new spectacles, these people stand in front of you like Roman gods. You glasses-wearing folk know the routine. You go in there in need of some eyesight enhancement. But, secretly, you're scanning for a new style of frame to "define you." Those thin pieces of middle around plastic or glass have the magical ability to bring out parts of your soul that no one has ever seen before. And you just know that the right selection of eyewear will automatically make you appear more intelligent, deeper, sexier, or any other adjective you can think of.

You're vulnerable, no way around it. Glasses have always gotten a bad rap and you need this new set to go against tradition and make you even more amazing than you previously were. As such, your self conscious nature is in control. And then you look up to the ceiling and see the posters of these living gods, in their glorious glossy beauty. And those frames on their face, those frames! They stand out above the din, telling the world to notice. They make a statement on such magnificent faces, surely they could do the same for you. You have found your soul.

There are people who have forked out money for these frames based solely on the fact that they looked good on that picture of the model who was staring at the floor. And a few days later, when they strap on their overpriced troll-ware, they'll be flinching at their own reflection. Turns out that if you don't have a team of makeup artists and a photographer who knows your "good side," you may not be able to pull off these glasses.

This place suddenly feels a bit more icky as a result of this revelation. Good people come in and out of this place every day. People who probably already have issues with the fact that they have to wear glasses. It doesn't even have to be about physical beauty. Hell, the idea that you have one more piece of baggage to tote around because of your body's inherent flaws is enough for most. And of course, the cost of the fucking things can put anyone in a bad mood. Any of these factors can make someone more uncomfortable in the purchase of their new eyewear.
And considering that most eyeglass places offer the multitudes of frames that make their models look good, and yet a limited stock of the more casual, normal type frames that would make anyone look good. They're pushing crap people. High class named, hideous looking glasses that any person would regret within minutes of looking at themselves in the mirror in the comfort of their own homes. The modern spec monger is taking advantage of our discomfort with this kind of false advertising. Playing on the need to feel beautiful combined with the need to see is dirty pool.

So, for my glasses-wearing peers, when that time for the eye exam comes, and new eyewear is on the menu, be wary. Keep your eyes away from those ceilings and on the prize. Don't be swayed by a group of people who must eat tofu to remain employed, and who can lose their jobs at the sign of a few pimples. You are better than them, and more than capable of finding your inner beauty through a pair of specs all on your own.