If you don’t stop that you’ll go blind
Went to get my eyes tested at Vision Express yesterday and it reminded me of a story that happened to me a few years ago. I’ve actually told it online before – but if something’s worth saying once – it’s worth saying a million times. And it saves me from thinking up something new. And recycling is good.
Now firstly I want to point out how much I hate having my eyes tested. I really can’t emphasize this enough. I’m very squeamish about my eyes – everything makes me blink (this is why I often look like a div kid in photographs). I was crap at that “don’t blink” game at school. I have to have my eye pressure measured once a year at the hospital and I’ve never really got used to it. I have borderline high eye pressure apparently. At first the doctor thought it was caused because I wear my pants so tight. The doctor told me to wear looser pants and stop being so damn sexy. Since then I always go commando, and the chicks love me even more.
(That bit’s a lie; the doctor thinks I have naturally high-pressured eyeballs or something)
Anyway, back to Vision Express. I don’t like going inside Vision Express; it reminds of the lapdancing club, Spearmint Rhino’s. I haven’t got a loyalty card or anything, but I had to go there once a few years back for a friend’s stag-do. The thing about the place is – they’ve made everything white and shiny – it’s all open-plan and spacious. The vibe they are trying to create is this: “don’t be scared, this is not an embarrassing place to enter – please come inside and have a look around“. Then once you’re in they pounce on you. Everyone there has a big plastic grin and the mantra is “Do you need any help there?“. And then you find it costs a fortune to leave. And so it is with Vision Express.
Right then, last time I was at Vision Express I decided to try contact lenses. These they don’t just hand over – they have to teach you how to put them in. Some people – most people in fact – have no problem doing this. To me it’s like poking yourself in the eye with a fork. And to be honest, I don’t really trust anyone who has no problem sticking their finger in their eye. “Look – I’m touching my eyeball“! That’s just not natural. Donald Sutherland does this in Invasion of the Body-Snatchers just before you find out he’s an alien.
The task of teaching me was given to the Saturday girl in the shop (presumably no one else there had 6 hours to spare till I managed it). The process involved her standing very close in front of me and watching while I attempted to prod the lense into my eye, and then failed. Again and again. The thing is after each attempt I was instructed to “look down, then back up” – so that she could then inspect my handiwork… But she was quite short, very attractive and had a large cleavage hoisted up – and there was only one place my eyes could go when I looked down. Then I had to look back up into her eyes, and she knew where I had just looked. And she knew that I knew she knew. And she was not happy about it. I tried hard not to look there, but it was just impossible. I tried to convey the message “look, I’m really sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose you know…” with my eyebrows and face, but this just made it look like I was leering at her like some vile sex-pest. And she had to be nice to me because I was a customer. We both felt totally humiliated, but for totally different reasons.
She probably handed in her notice that day. She wasn’t there when I picked up my prescription the following week (unless she was hiding in the backroom, sobbing).
I’m actually thinking trying contact lenses again this time…
Categories:Funny, London Life
This is a personal website and the views expressed here are my own (or stolen from other people down the pub). Facts may not be accurate, or could be poorly paraphrased gags borrowed from proper writers - or simply, outright lies.