How I Got My Squint Back
Within moments of my arrival in Philadelphia, my glasses were crushed under the foot of a woman who is – and remains at the time of this writing — nine months pregnant.
I had flown into the city to visit her and be among the first people to see her baby – my future nephew. But thanks to my sister’s action, I cannot much see, let alone see the baby.
‘Twasn’t her fault, of course. I was to sleep in what will become the baby’s room, on an inflatable mattress. Since there wasn’t a night stand, clearly the only place I would consider putting any of my “stuff” was the floor. And naturally, the spot I chose would be in the direct path of a pregnant woman and an item that she wanted moved from a very high shelf.
“My glasses!” I exclaimed, after scooping the wreckage up into my outstretched palms. “They’re all smashed up!”
It was my wife who persuaded me to get glasses in what turned out to be a very emotional, growing process for me.
About five or six years ago, I had overheard an ex-girlfriend talking about me to one of her friends. She said that I had a “sexy squint” and that was, of course, news to me. It’s safe to say that for whatever reason a guy thinks a woman likes him for, he’s wrong (unless he’s rich).
But now that I had this knowledge, I became a little more conscious of it. I never knew I squinted. Now I was always trying to catch my squint in the act. Questions about the squint abounded. When did the squint start happening? What made my squint so alluring and irresistible to scores of single women all around the globe? Perhaps if I could harness the power of my squint, I could conquer the planet.
My plans for world domination abruptly ended about two years ago, when my future-wife brought up the squint.
“I know,” I said, probably squinting. “It’s sexy, right?”
“No, Mark,” she informed me. “It means you can’t see.” Sure enough, she took me to an eye doctor and when he made me look through that little magnifying glass contraption, within one or two clicks, I could make out words from across the room and what not. I was seeing clearly now.
That day, I learned a very powerful lesson — namely that the woman who would one day be my wife was clearly a miracle worker who had the power to restore my sight and was therefore, probably infallible in every way. Well…at the very least, I give her credit for allowing me to see her walk down the aisle to marry me, which would have been an impossibility without glasses.
Since I bought them from some trendy mountain-based eyeglass shop, I couldn’t just walk into a local Philly optometrist and get them repaired. Until the parts could be mailed over to me, I was going to have to deal with less than perfect eyesight again.
After my sister decided not to cooperate by not having her baby on her due date, the decision was made by the women in our family to ship me off to my parents house. Here, I continue to wait, a future uncle in exile. Luckily, my folks live in a charming town and I love to visit the historic downtown area and endlessly compare and contrast it with Parkville. So one day, I decided to visit one of the antique malls.
Visiting a store with a trillion little items and fragile furniture lined up in rows every two-feet is not a lot of fun when you’re visually challenged. In order to view something, It becomes necessary to get very close to the object. In turn, this leads to one of the attendants to come over and answer any questions you may have, since you apparently have an intense interest in whatever it is you’re staring at. A few of the women attendants were quite chatty, and I kept nodding politely but had to wonder why I was garnering so much attention from them. After a few minutes of whatever they were saying, I would lose interest and begin gazing around. Looking over at an antique mirror, I discovered a long lost treasure – my squint.
And that’s when I had yet another squint-induced epiphany. My squint didn’t make me look sexy. Far from it, in fact. My squint made me look like I was listening. For years, I probably coasted along, making like I was actually paying attention to whatever my ex-girlfriends were prattling on about. When they would test me on it later, I wouldn’t have a clue as to what they were talking about and disaster would soon follow.
So, in many ways, by clearing up my vision problem my wife was ensuring that I paid attention. Brilliant move. By the time I get home, the glasses will be fixed and we’ll continue on in matrimonial bliss like before.
Until then, however, I’ll be the guy looking for my socks.