They Live
Monday, December 13, 2004
The past month I have been back and forth to the eye store at least 4 times. The man at the eye store, the eye salesman, makes me look into a machine that changes the way I see things. He tries to confuse me into making high pressure purchases by constantly making it easier or harder to see. When I have had enough to become dizzy he takes the eye confuser away from my face. The lights brighten in the room and before me is a buffet of contacts and other eye care products on a table that were not there before. He starts a stopwatch and I have 30 seconds to decide which one I think I need!
He also talks to me about college. Every time I have gone into his office he reads his file about my eyes. Some time I must have told him what college I went to because he reads it on there every time. Eye salesman and I went to the same college so he likes to ask questions about how things have changed since his crazy time there. I have told him the same stories at least 8 times. He probably tells all of his customers that he went to their college. This is paramount to his sales tactics.
I keep my guard up and don't fall too deep into his lies, even when he's using his light to look in my eyes and his face is right in mine and I am afraid he might kiss me. The eye salesman is like a used car salesman. However, he doesn't let me dig in the trash at his office to search for other people's used up crispy contacts. I want to buy them at a discounted rate but he only deals in new contacts.
In the future, all contacts will be installed by alien fingers on their space ships. This is how they keep you from reading alien destruction technology books.
He's letting me test drive some new controversial contacts. They were recently approved by the FDA so you can sleep in them. There was probably a lot of pressure on the FDA from club goers who are tired of getting trashed at college bars and wake up in the morning next to someone they do not know and they can't see if they were cute or not so they have to sneak out of bed with blurry contacts that are fused to their eyes. Then when they are trying to be quiet they trip over a lamp or a shoe and wake up the sleeping stranger. Then the awkward conversation cannot be avoided.
If the stranger is a jerk you have to walk home. When you get outside you have to shade your eyes from the brightness. Not only can you not see, but you have no idea where your apartment is. You're marked in your hoochie bar clothes durning your journey home. You're bound to trip over a curb in awkward dancing shoes if you're a girl and a passing car will probably knowingly laugh at you. For a guy, he'll get heckled from balconies by other guys. "Duuude! Walk of shame! How was she, dude?!"
Sleep-in contacts: Keeping the illegitmate child birthrate high.
posted by Ghengis @ 7:22 PM,
