On our first night of our mini kid-cation, Tony and I decided to take in some wine tasting, compliments of our lovely hotel. We tasted. We liked. We tasted more. We discovered that we were allowed to taste two full glasses of wine free of charge. And so we did.
We then went down to the lobby to decide where we would eat for the night, and I noticed that there was an optician shop attached to the hotel. My glasses had been bothering me, as the arms were too tight behind my ear and known to give me headaches. I thought it would be a good idea to get them adjusted. He adjusted them, but pointed out to me that one of the arms was weak and a little too floppy in the spot where the metal was welded to the plastic.
“See how it wiggles here? That means it is very close to snapping. That is a manufacturer’s defect, so you should probably take them back to where you bought them,”
he told me.
“Oh? Wiggly like this?” I asked, touching my glasses and trying to get a better look through the eyes of a drunk.
Oh shit. My glasses are in two pieces. My only pair for the entire weekend. My other pair were at home.
“Hmm,” the optician said. “I could put some solvent on those to try and get them to hold together until you can get home, but you’ll have to let them sit flat on a table for a few hours. Do you think you could handle that?”
“Well, I have my seeing-eye husband with me, so I think I will be ok,” I replied, with as much wit as a semi-intoxicated mother-in-hiding-from-her-children could muster.
So he solved the glasses, I brought them up to our room, and we decided to saunter down to our favourite nacho destination, Julio’s. Of course, I could see nothing. I was a little off balance from the vino, a little blind from the lack of eye wear, and not walking too well. Tony thought it would be funny to push me into things, just to test my blindness. Or gymnast-worthy balance.
Seeing how I was already blind and unable to use my knees properly, I decided to have another drink at Julio’s, along with the most amazing nacho platter I have ever had. We ate, we laughed, we belched, we plowed through a Mexican fried ice cream in less than 20 seconds. It was pure awesomeness. Other than being blind and stuff. We paid our tab and decided to head over to Chapters, a rather large bookstore that we frequented a lot when we were poor starving students in university.
I walked into Chapters on Tony’s arm, then remembering that I couldn’t see anything more than 10 cm from my face.
“Hey, look at this!” Tony would say, showing me the book he was flipping through. Ha ha. I can’t see. Dumbass. What the heck was I doing in a bookstore when I couldn’t see anything on the books? I could hardly make out the labels above the shelves that tell you what section you are in. Oddly, I ended up in Women’s Studies and Military History. Fun times. Seeing how those are not really my passion, I headed to an area where I knew I could have fun: the Thomas train table.
Eventually, Thomas got bored with me. I sniffed my way around the store, trying to follow the stench of Julio’s farts coming from Tony’s bum. Eventually, we were reunited, and we walked back to the hotel.
Back in our room, I reached for my glasses, so eager to join the seeing world again. I went to put them on.
Frick on a stick!!
Alright, bring on the tape. I can rock the geek look if I have to.