Because Life Just Can't Be Simple

To some, being a stay-at-home trophy wife may seem like it could get monotonous, but somehow my life refuses to be mundane. Case in point: Audrey took my last pair of contacts out of service with a strategically placed toe to the eye several months ago. I've been putting off going to the optometrist because 1) I still had my glasses from college and 2) I hate talking on the phone...especially to surly receptionists.

This, of course, meant there was nothing left for me to do but to squash my only remaining source of good vision; those glasses served me faithfully for many years and I'm happy to say they went out with a very satisfying crunch.

Instead of wandering around semi-blind for months like I did last time I lost a pair of glasses, I immediately took action, called the surly receptionist at Lens Crafters and demanded the earliest possible appointment.

...two days later I found myself discussing eye wear with Fran, the overbearing eye wear consultant. I think it's mandatory for these people to be over-the-top in personality and have an inflated sense of entitlement, but Fran blew them all out of the water. For some reason John felt the need to accompany me with the kid who, while we were out, proceeded to squawk at new decibel levels, wet through her diaper, peed down John's shirt and pants and then loudly demanded to be fed. And that ain't all!

After much deliberation and grumbling and rummaging through glasses to find a pair without rhinestones or heart embellishments on them, I finally found a pair of frames I can live with until I sit on them again. Once that torment was through, I was forced to have a half hour sit-down with my favorite consultant going over every lens/frame combination known to man.
Finally, reciept in hand, I was exhausted, but happy to hear that I would be able to pick up my dapper new glasses in about an hour. Easy, schmeasy--the hard part's over, right?

Wrong--Don't breath a sigh of relief and hope that this post will soon be over...because you haven't even met purple-pant-suit lady yet. (We'll call her PPS Lady for short)

This is the woman who spends ten minutes writing a check and balancing her checkbook in front of you in the grocery store. And I was behind her in line to pick up my glasses. By this point, I was starting to remember why I seldom choose to go out in public and why my new favorite television show is about a serial killer.

A process that should have taken me five minutes turned into a half hour of listening to PPS Lady talk about how excited she was to be getting her purple (Yes! Purple!) glasses. Apparently everyone in her life had been informed of this event and was equally ecstatic...even though they all said they loved the other pair of glasses as well, they just reminded PPS Lady too much of her Great Aunt Penelope (I'm not making this up!)

Then her phone rings...it's her husband.

"Oh, Daryl! I'm just getting fitted for my new purple glasses! It'll only take a few more minutes (Yeah, right.) Can I call you back? And oh, Mr. Glasses Man, could you adjust these just a micro-hair down on the left?...oh, no. That's not right. I don't know, they just feel crooked!"

She then proceeded to discuss her cell phone plan and exactly how often she and her husband use their phones.

I was restraining myself from both laughter and murder at this point. It seemed the guy adjusting her glasses and every other unfortunate soul in the store (aside from Fran) felt the same.

Next time I'm getting contacts.