If there's one thing perfect about me, it's my eyesight.
Stanley rolled his eyes.
Carl the dense one -- who's a natural follower -- rolled his eyes without knowing why.
"You're far from perfect now," Stanley said bitchily, tapping at his temples to remind me that no longer perfect I am, since I'm now bespectacled.
"You're not very nice," I pointed out.
Carl the dense one -- who's a natural follower -- nodded at my comment without knowing why.
"If there's one thing tight about you, Stanley," I said as a follow-up attack, "it's your pants."
Carl the dense one - who's a natural follower -- said "Amen sister", without knowing why.
Stanley fumed, sucked in his tummy, and glared at the giggling Carl.
"If there's one big about you, Carl," Stanley said, hoping to pay the bitchiness forward, "it's your head space where your brains should be."
Carl the dense one - who's a natural follower and has huge biceps -- frowned.
"I thought you were going to say my biceps were the one thing huge about me," he said with a pout.
We were causally hanging out at Stanley's that Saturday.
It was movies night, as Stanley stated in his WhatsApp invite to us in the group chat titled "Just the Boys".
"Movie night, come." was the message.
Come to think of it, come must be one command Stanley often uses, but that's a story for another day.
As Stanley passed the popcorn (which he bought from Giant and made it pop in his microwave), I pivoted back to my topic.
I'm thinking of getting lasik, boys, I said.
"Oh, finally," Carl the dense one said. "It's high time you did something to your skin, Adam. I mean, I didn't want to say it but now that you've come to your senses, I must tell you that your skin needs a lot of work."
"Carl darling, lasik has to do with the eyes," Stanley said to our dense friend and placed his palm gently on his shoulder the way doctors would behave when they told you you have cancer.
Carl the dense one nodded without knowing why.
Turning to me and reaching for the remote at the same time, Stanley asked: "Why laisk? I thought you loved your geek look?"
Well, I do.
I mean, even when I had perfect vision, I'd buy fake glasses and put them on because I love how the dark-rimmed frames made me look studious.
But I had a choice to take them off whenever I wanted.
Which is a basic human right Stanley must most appreciate because he applies that to his pants.
For years, I was the envy of many because I have perfect vision.
Up till when five years ago -- when I was merely 38.
My eyesight began to go downhill then, which is the general direction my skin was heading, led by gravitational forces of the earth.
It started with mild giddiness one morning when I was reading my phone in bed.
I immediately made a quick appointment at the Eye Centre.
That afternoon, I walked out with a clear vision of what's happening to me.
I had presbyopia -- the first milestone of ageing.
Oh, well, I thought it would be fun getting to wear real glasses for once.
But no. It was such a hassle and I didn't see that coming.
I hated lugging my reading glasses around in my bag and having to put them on whenever I read.
An intern in my previous company saw me slip on my reading glasses and giggled to herself.
I made her fetch me coffee twice that day.
Soon, I felt very lazy about putting them on and taking them off, so instead, I chose to walk around with my reading glasses even when I wasn't reading.
Soon, my eyes grew used to wearing my reading glasses -- which was not good.
Because eventually, not only did I have presbyopia, but my vision also started to worsen.
At age 40, I had to wear prescribed glasses.
Bifocals.
And boy, were they difficult to get around in.
The first time I put on the bifocals, I felt like I was in Outer Space.
The floor felt tilted and I had to take dramatic steps as if the earth beneath me would crumble at a misstep.
It took a lot of getting used to, with the bifocal specs.
Even as I write this now, I'm still not quite used to them.
And it's been, what, three years?
It takes adjustment, and I suspect I'll never fully get used to them.
For one, I can't do evil side glances anymore -- doing so takes my vision out of range so I'll get dizzy spells when I do that. Which could be nature's way of taming me.
And because of my flat nose, my specs keep sliding off my face and that's also annoying.
These days, I'd been toying with the idea of just doing lasik so that I can return to my carefree, specs-less days.
"I guess I know what you mean," Stanley said.
He had selected a horror film.
"Not wearing specs is like not wearing underwear.
"The freeballing feeling is so liberating."
Knowing Stanley, he would want to stand up and jiggle around to make his point and so just as he was about to stand up, Carl pressed him down with his python-size biceps.
Thank goodness for small wins. Sometimes, Carl does know what's happening.
"Stan, I watched this film the other day. Can we choose another one?" Carl said, and patted Stanley on his shoulder the way big bosses would do when they instruct you with tasks which you can't say no to.
No comments:
Post a Comment