The best theory she could come up with was that while the lenses fit well when my eyes are open, it’s possible that because my eyes have fairly small apertures (Shut up) when my eyes are closed my lids are putting too much pressure on the lenses. This could explain why my eyes responded to the molding so well after my first night wearing them, as the extra pressure initially helped force my eyes into shape.
The solution she came up with was to order me some looser-fitting lenses and have me stop wearing my current ones. Also, as I’ll not be wearing any lenses for at least two weeks, if there’s something else going on with my eyes the period of not wearing the lenses might let things sort themselves out.
So that sucks, as it means I’ll be back to wearing glasses in the interim.
My eye trouble reminds me of a sketch on that old MTV comedy series from the early 90s called The Idiot Box, starring Alex Winter (Bill of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure/Bogus Journey), called “Damn These Eyes!”
“Eyes” was a spoof of 50s sci-fi movies and told the story of a scientist who was in an accident that caused visible dotted lines to emanate from his eyes which pointed to whatever he happened to be looking at. This, of course, led to all sorts of problems, as it became apparent, for example, that he was staring at women’s breasts, or that when he was at the newsstand buying scientific journals he was really interested in the girlie magazines. Naturally it all led him to periodically exclaim “Damn these eyes!”
Fortunately I haven’t had that particular problem. Especially today when I was at the eye doctor’s, as one of the girls working there has pretty big cans and was wearing a shirt with a plunging neckline.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to be polite, you just can’t help but stare.
There was a bartender who worked at my regular bar back in Michigan with whom I – and pretty much everyone else – had that problem. Even women, by their own admission, could not help but stare. I theorized that her breasts were so massive that they actually had their own gravity and pulled your eyes inexorably towards them.
One night I actually told her, “Look, I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I just can’t help it.” I went on to say that it was almost – almost – a shame that they were such attention-grabbers, because she was also extremely pretty, but people almost never noticed simply because their eyes were always drawn elsewhere.
(The nephew of one of my friends had stopped by the bar one evening before coming over to his aunt’s house, and when he arrived he kept talking about this girl who had a great ass. We couldn’t figure out who he was talking about until we all went to the bar later on and he pointed her out, because while she did have a great ass, and pretty much a great everything else, it wasn’t the most obvious attribute to use to describe her.)
Luckily she was very good-natured about the whole thing – and just good-natured in general – so she seldom took offense, and being aware of what an asset they were, she generally dressed to maximize her tits in order to maximize her tips.
Hastily – and poorly – drawn artist’s rendering of a typical interaction.
Speaking of eyes, and her effect on them, when I was in rehab, there came a point during which clients established enough trust that they could venture out into the world for brief periods of time on their own, though we were generally encouraged to take along a buddy. (Certain areas of town, obviously, were off-limits.)
On one such trip out to a local store I bumped into her (not literally, sadly), and while I was standing there talking to her, the guy who’d come along with me spotted the two of us talking and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw her.
(For the record, yes, I did once ask her out. I think you can guess how well that worked out.)
In any case, the latest news on my eyes is pretty much the only news for today, so I think I’ll give my damnable eyes a rest and post this.
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