Saturday, September 17, 2005

The Goggles Do Nothing!

I stepped out of the car, already feeling a bit self-conscious. Since I was having LASIK surgery in a week, I had to wear my glasses, and since I'd worn my contacts since sixth-grade, my glasses had not been updated in quite some time. It was almost like looking into a time-machine to that awkward stage that everyone goes through; only I was living it right now, at twenty-five.

I had already taken jokes from everyone at the office, who had taken to calling me Mr. Magoo, which went right over my head, since that's a show from the 30's. And, let's face it; I wasn't around in the post-depression world.

Even my own mother, who is supposed to unconditionally love her son, said that I looked like an owl. And not the good kind of owl either. She said I looked like Mr. Owl from the Tootsie Pop commercials and made me play along to the commercial.

"Come on Brent, you have to do it, " my mom said.

"I don't want to."

"Mr. Owl how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?"

"Ugh…fine. You better appreciate this."

"Oh, I will. So, Mr. Owl how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?"

"Let's find out," I said while I mimed unwrapping the Pop and licking it once.

"One ... Ta-whoooo," I said and then acted like I bit into the Tootsie Pop. "Three... ahem... three licks," I cried as I ran away in tears while a vicious smile appeared on my mom's face.

So, you can see that I had been mentally abused over the past two days. And the weekend had finally arrived, so I was going over to hang out with my friends.

Since we normally hang out with people similar to us, my friends are a sarcastic bunch of assholes, so I knew I was going to get ripped to shreds. I was nervous, because it's normally me who is doing the ripping on people.

I started walking up the stairs towards Paul and Joe's apartment. Each step felt like my legs had gained twenty pounds so by the time I got to the top, it felt like I had the combined weight of Delta Burke and Rosie O'Donnell on my back.

I reached the door and took a deep breath before turning the handle.

I turned the handle and walked in, expecting the worst.

Joe took one look at me and said, "Wow. So, wearing the glasses huh? I'm not going to lie; they make you look gay."

I really didn't know what to do with that. Sure, they were a little big and oversized, but does that preclude anything about sexual orientation? I didn't know, but I thought I should explain a little about why I'm wearing the glass.

"Well, I'm having LASIK in a week and they make you wear glasses so your eyes have time to revert back to their natural state," I said as a way of explaining why I was wearing my glasses.

"Yeah, but did they have to be special glasses?" Paul quipped from the kitchen.

Joe broke out in a laughing fit that would have ended with milk coming out of his nose, had he been drinking milk at the time.

Damn it Paul, I thought. I had not a one comeback to that one. But, again, I figured an explanation was in order.

"No, these are just old. You see, I've been wearing contacts for so long, I never updated my glasses," I said, hoping that would end all the discussion.

"Oh, I see. Well, I guess they're good if you were in some sort of industrial accident or something. They'd probably keep your eyes in tip-top shape," Paul said.

"Fallout Boy will untie Radioactive Man and pull him to safety moments before he's hit with a forty-foot wall of sulfuric acid that will horribly burn everything in its path. Now, that's real acid, so I want to see goggles, people!" Joe said while doubled up on the floor with laughter.

"My eyes...the goggles do nothing!" Dan chimed in from the bathroom in a Rainier Wolfcastle voice, whilst sitting on the toilet.

He hadn't even seen me, only heard their laughter and he was making fun of me too? Damn him and his sarcastic nature.

I took a seat on the couch next to Tom.

Paul said, "Tom, aren't you even going to make fun of Brent and his glasses?"

"Oh, that's Brent? I didn't even recognize him and I didn't want to make fun of someone I didn't know," Tom said.

And with that, I hunkered down into the fetal position as my fragile ego shrunk by fifty percent. There was nothing to comeback with and I knew it, they knew it and it seemed like all of America knew it. I knew the jokes would keep coming all night.

So, I sat back in the chair and got ready to take whatever they said, while silently making notes to rip on each of them when my surgery was over with.

"Hey, Nelson looks like Hitler; if Hitler looked like a gay fourth grader with stupid glasses," Dan said as he came out of the bathroom.

Crap, I thought. This is going to be a long night.

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