by Lenslover*
I was going on my seventh year as a sales representative for a medical supply firm and the job was beginning to bore me. In all that time, I always had the same territory, the same customers, the same company car, etc. You name it - everything was the same.
The only 'new' thing in my life was my divorce. Fortunately, my ex and I hadn't been together long enough to have kids, so that was one less thing to worry about. But it was just one more item on my crap list.
This particular day, I was calling on one of my biggest customers and started out on the 8 hour journey. It required driving through the Rocky Mountains, which made me pick and choose the best time of the year for the trek. I didn't think twice about driving through the Rockies in May; I had done it many times and never had any problems.
I started out at the usual time, drove the same route, and under the regular conditions. I was just about at the mountain summit when the skies suddenly turned gray and it began to snow. I had to slow down as visibility became worse and worse by the minute. The snowflakes fell intermittently at first but became more dense with each passing minute.
Who would have thought there'd be a freak snow storm in the middle of May? I didn't have my tire chains with me and I was preparing for the worst. I could hear on the radio that the state patrol had declared a snow emergency and were helping people get off the road. I didn't run into any patrolmen, so I had no choice but to continue on.
My headlights were becoming 'near-sighted'. Even though I was traveling at a snail's pace, I could barely see two feet in front of me. Suddenly, a huge boulder appeared in view and I had no choice but to swerve to avoid it. Luckily, I was able to steer my car onto a dirt path off to the side of the road, just barely wide enough for my car.
I couldn't tell exactly how far I went along this path, but I could tell the car was descending. After a couple of hours, the clouds broke, the sun came out and I could finally see well again. I had ended up in a secluded valley, with towering evergreens lining the hillsides. I rolled the car window down. The air was fresh and exhilarating and I could hear birds chirping incessantly. I saw a small city off in the distance and decided it was as good a place as any to stop and calm my frazzled nerves.
I reached town and immediately after I finished parking my car, I saw a woman walking towards me. She was in her mid-twenties, with thick, straight shoulder-length, natural blonde hair. Very beautiful, I thought as I gazed at her face, which was framed nicely by a pair of red plastic glasses. She laid a big smile on me and said "Hi! You're not from around here. I can tell just by looking at you".
I returned the greeting but I wasn't sure what she meant. The only thing I could see different about us was that she wore glasses and I didn't. As she passed, I felt a gentle tap on my rear end from her tennis racket. I thought to myself how great it was going to be dating again.
I stopped in a restaurant and decided to get a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, since after having driven for hours on the edge of my seat, I needed to relax a little. The waitress came over to take my order. I was still glancing at the menu, but before I started to order, I looked up at her. She was also wearing glasses, and these were noticeably thicker than the blonde's. The front surface of the lenses appeared to be curved inward.
I didn't know how to engage her in conversation, being a stranger in town, so I simply said I thought her glasses looked really good on her. She said thanks and that she liked wearing glasses, and they were a source of enjoyment for her and her boyfriend. She rattled off her prescription: -16.5 -1.50 x 100L -16.0 -1.75 x 125R. I didn't know what on earth she was talking about, but I smiled out of courtesy and resolved to leave her a generous tip.
After I finished, I got up and went over to the main counter to pay the bill. The cashier came from around the corner and - you guessed it - she wore glasses! These were fairly strong too, but this lady was a hyperope. At least there is some diversity here, I thought.
I exited the restaurant and as I walked back to my car, I saw two men walking from the opposite direction. They were also wearing glasses. Then I looked across the street at the many people who were out on the sidewalk. I could see that each one of them wore glasses.
I was approaching two women who were sitting on a bench. At first, their conversation was barely audible but as I got nearer, I could hear what they were saying. "...last night Frank and I had THE best sex EVER with my glasses! 'Tell me all about it! Did you do The Move?' Yes!, First, we...". I had passed them and even though I deliberately slowed down the pace of my walk, my manners got the best of me and I continued on. Wild thoughts raced through my mind, though.
I stopped at the corner and looked around. I spotted an optical store, strictly by coincidence. I figured I would try to find out what the story was with all these people wearing glasses.
I entered the store and approached the counter. The receptionist was in her 30s, very good-looking with an attractive pair of black frame, rhinestone studded, cats-eye glasses with softened edges which set off her brunette hair and blue eyes perfectly. "Excuse me. I'm from out of town - I'm curious about something. I've noticed that everyone here wears glasses. Is that the case?"
She replied "Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Nobody knows how it all started - it's been like this for many generations. We think it's something in the air or water. The funny thing is, on one side of the river, everyone is myopic and on the other side of the river, everyone is hyperopic. We have a law that you can't marry anyone from the opposite side of the river. We're afraid that we might breed children with perfect vision. We are all glasses fetishists here."
All the while she was talking to me, I was checking out her glasses. I judged the frames to be size 55. She must have had anti-reflective coating on her lenses, since I had always had a clear shot at her eyes. I thanked her for enlightening me and left the store.
Imagine that! A place where people actually like to wear glasses and talk about them! I dated several women who didn't wear glasses and several who did. I didn't really have a fetish for glasses, but to me they were like frosting on the proverbial cake. I did think women always tended to look better with glasses.
By this time, most of the day was shot so I decided to head over to a cocktail lounge. I sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. After a short time, a lovely young lady sat down a few seats from me. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and I could tell something was bothering her.
We started to converse, and eventually the truth came out. "I split up with my boyfriend a couple of months ago and I haven't been asked out since that time." I looked at her and said maybe the problem was her glasses. They were wire-rims with small plastic, high-index lenses; nothing to write home about, in my opinion. The lenses appeared to be strong, but her eyes were not as small behind them as they should be for the strength. And then it came to me - she must have astigmatism!
She came right out and asked "What do you think about my glasses?" I said "The frames don't suit your face. Also, many guys don't get turned on by featherweight, paper mâché style glasses. What's your rx?" She said "-12.50 -5.00 x 80L -11.25 -6.75 x 110R." By this time, I was getting much better at gauging prescriptions and the terminology was not greek to me anymore. In fact, I was one diopter from hitting it on the nose! I gave myself an imaginary pat on the back. We engaged in some simple optic technical talk. It was quite fun, actually!
I said "Those style glasses only appeal to a small segment of the male population. If you would dump the plastic, high-index lenses you might reach greater market penetration. Get regular glass lenses and don't worry about the thickness. Remember: thick is good. The larger the lens, the better. It's ok to polish the edges slightly, but be careful to maintain sizeable edge definition. You want your glasses to have some substance to them and define who you are and your mood instead of making them invisible on your face. You'll appear much more sultry to men."
Suddenly, her eyes lit up. She said "I'm going to my optometrist and order new glasses tomorrow. Thanks for your advice." She gave me a big hug and kissed me on my cheek. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of gorgeous glasses with brown plastic frames and 1/2" thick regular glass lenses. "These are my spare glasses. They're actually an out-of-date prescription. I want you to have them." I accepted her gift and thanked her profusely.
It finally came time for me to go. I paid for her drinks, thanked her for her company, and departed. I was very tired from all the hectic driving, so I had no intention of going anywhere that night.
I was able to find a hotel and get a room. I sat down on my bed and examined the glasses the pretty girl had given me and put them on the nightstand. It took me a while to calm down from all the things that had happened to me that day, but eventually I was able to fall asleep.
The next thing I knew, the alarm clock rang and with it, the radio turned on. I was able to catch the weather report. The storm had passed and the state patrol had opened up the roads again; it was now safe to drive. I started planning the schedule for the day in my mind.
I rubbed my eyes. I was still groggy as I reached over to the nightstand and groped for the glasses and true to form as you always see on TV, I didn't feel anything. It had all been a dream.
I sat up in bed and tried as hard as I could to remember all the things that had happened the day before. Everything seemed so real to me. Then I glanced over at the nightstand. On it were the pair of high minus glasses! I laid down again and pulled the bed sheets up over me.
My ex-wife wouldn't care what happened to me. I suppose someone would file a missing person report with the FBI after a week or two. I never really was counting on collecting Social Security, anyway.
There was no reason for me to return to the other world. I closed my eyes and smiled. I had found my Shangri-La.