National Glasstime

[dropcap]I [/dropcap]broke down and did it, I bought a pair of reading glasses. I was long overdue. I realized that I needed them because I kept squinting at the morning newspaper, wondering why the ink was smudged. It comes as no surprise, after all, I’m at the age where pulling an all-nighter means not waking up to go pee.

The deaf old man working the pharmacy department helped me find the perfect six-dollar reading glasses. Included with my purchase was a beaded chain to go around my neck, for when I’m playing bingo with my pals in the Rotary Club.

“What about this pair?” I asked the old man.

“Your hair? It looks fine. A little long if you ask me.”

“I feel like I look old.”

“You’re cold? Now that you mention it, it is a little chilly.”

I walked over to the big mirror for a gander. It was bad, I looked like captain of the middle school math team.

“Cheer up,” the old man said. “I’ve been wearing glasses since I was a little boy. And all we ever got were thick black glasses that weighed a couple pounds.”

“You mean like hipster glasses?”


“Like hers,” I pointed to a girl nearby, who wore a thick pair of glasses, with a tattooed arm.

“Come again?”

“I said, look, check out that girl’s glasses.”

He shook his head at me, “You oughta be ashamed of yourself.”

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