Cross-eyed

Generally I've been lucky with my eyes.  Never quite 20/20 but more than OK to do without glasses.  This meant I avoided that awful teenage stage where you eventually convince your parents to invest in contacts... and your friends are so used to seeing you with glasses that you look a bit like a blind raccoon without them.  Even though your eyesight is perfect.  You looked better with glasses.

I skipped all that.  However, occasionally at work, I do get headaches, and I am generally in front of a screen for at least 9 hours a day.  So I toddled off to the opticians, who told me my prescription hadn't changed since my last visit, but did recommend I got some glasses for VDU use.

I am not to be trusted choosing things to wear by myself, so TheBloke (TM) met me after work to choose some suitable frames.  We spent a while looking at the ladies' frames... and then I noticed the men's section had a greater selection.  I tried a couple on - they felt fine (not too big) and so I took a pair of Oakley's to the shop assistant.

In retrospect, the choice of shop assistant was probably where it all went wrong.  He seemed Asian, but had a very odd accent - almost Eastern European or Italian and didn't speak great English.  In retrospect again, I suspect he was faking it and we were on some kind of CCTV wind-up programme.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he said.

"I have chosen some frames.  They're from the men's section, but I guess that doesn't matter, does it?"  I wondered if men's prescriptions were slightly different in anyway.

"Yes, does matter," said the optician.

"Oh," I said.  "Will they be too big?"

He looked at the frames.  "No.  Is very small size.  Very small for man."

"So, why can't I have these frames then?" I asked.

"These are man frames," he stated definitively.

"I know that," I said.  "But what's the difference between these and the ladies' frames?"

"Well," the optician said, turning over the frames in his hand as if to point out some manly technical detail, "these frames are... the colour is man colour.  Is darker than lady colour."

"OK," I said, "but some of the ladies' frames are black, so I don't really see how that's a problem."

"Well," the optician continued, "if your colleague see you wearing man's frames, they will laugh at you.  They might to point and also laugh."

"Oh," I said, thinking swiftly of my colleagues, and dismissing this as a likely problem.  "Is that it?  I am happy to take that risk."

The optician sighed.  "Your total will be (insert equivalent amount of GDP of China)."

"What the fuck?" I thought loudly.  I said, "But the frames are only (insert amount of an impulse-buy pair of shoes)."

"Yes," he continued, "but the lenses are £200."

"So how come," I asked, "you can get NHS specs all-in for £50?"

That was a mistake.  He spent the next ten minutes drawing me a cross-section of a lens.  Apparently it has eight different layers, including one for fog.  I reiterated that I would be wearing these glasses rarely, when I got a headache, indoors.  I didn't need to be fog-proofed.  We agreed (him reluctantly) that I didn't need fog-proof lenses.  "These lenses you have ordered will take 15-20 days to come in store.  The frames will be here very quick, but lenses, they take long time." said the optician.

"That's fine," I said.  I was in no massive rush.

He (very, very laboriously) typed into his computer system.  "Patient has selected Oakly (sic) MAN FRAMES.  Patient advised but sure she wants MAN FRAMES. Basic lenses (15-20 days). Patient happy with MAN FRAMES for MAN.  No refund."

The next working day? A phone call.  "Hello Ms Nunn?  Your lenses are ready.  We're just waiting on the frames now."

It would have been less painful to gouge my eyes out with a rusty teaspoon.  Perhaps that can be their new slogan.