Desperate times, desperate measures.

Back in January saw an eye doctor. Remember January? Children at school, restaurants open? You needed milk, you ran to the store? Anyway, my vision had changed, reading gotten harder: words seen clearly with one eye were wonky with the other. Doc said astigmatism was worse but all was well and sent me out the door with new prescription and uncomfortably dilated eyes. Failed to get prescription filled immediately because reasons, society shut down, and there I was, prescription in hand but without the hazmat suit now required to enter an optometrist’s shop.

So I decided to order prescription glasses online, no hazmat suit required, from a place we’ll call Schwarby Parker. (I’m not their shill.) Felt vast cynicism at the idea that this place would be able to scare up a pair of complicated progressive lenses without seeing me in person, but they promised money back if not entirely satisfied, and anyway better to light a single candle than curse the darkness, blah blah blah, which cursing, btw, is my usual MO. Ordered five try-at-home pairs of frames. Waited while several calendar pages blew off the wall in trope from old movies. Frames arrived, and engaged in long Zoom consultation with very patient friend and brief in-person consultation with brutally honest family members.

Chose pair, uploaded prescription, and was contacted by Schwarby Parker because they were suddenly all curious about the distance between the centers of my pupils. Oh really? They even came up with a cockamamie scheme to measure pupillary distance involving a credit card held under my nose and provided video demo of good-looking young man holding credit card under his nose and snapping a selfie. Snorted in derision but humored them by watching video of good-looking young man number of times. Figured they had bet going over how many customers will fall for this lark. They weren’t, anyway, just trying to get my credit card number, given that I was about to hand over credit card number anyway. Fine: played their little game. Sent picture, finalized order, and waited for useless screwy glasses to show up. More calendar pages blew off the wall. Spent the time imagining the folks at Schwarby Parker gathered around a laptop and laughing at my credit card pic, perhaps printing it out and pinning said pic to their Wall of Idiots. (Mur d’idiots, the French say.)

But glasses showed up yesterday. THEY WORK. They actually work. I can see! I can read! I can not only read, I can read the same words at the same time with both eyes, which—trust me—is the very best, most ideal way to read. Am so grateful to Schwarby Parker I almost don’t mind knowing I am on their Mur d’Idiots.