For me, the sexist thing about a woman who wears glasses
is the thrill of eventually trying on her prescription and seeing who has worse
eyesight. I see her from across the room
and I am immediately impressed and disappointed that she chosen to not put on
contacts. Maybe she has my problem with
contacts and a fear of having anything touch her eyes. If so, that’s cool with me. I finish my stretches and I approach her bifocals and eventually her actual person (nothing sexier than seeing a woman in “bifocals”). Upon approaching her, my glasses fog which can
mean one of two things: she’s either
that good looking or I’ve entered a room with a significant temperature change. Once my glasses return to normal, I start
the ancient ritual of attempting to woo a woman using a combination of Woody Allen
lines, Bill Murray attitude, and porno posturing. Typically, I’m in for a long night, but
tonight, oh tonight, her glasses begin to fog ever so slightly. I like to attribute this to myself, if only because
i've been giving condensation too much of the credit lately. So things go as they normally do. She talks, I kind of listen and mock, then I
talk, then I get insecure and talk again, then I listen but I can’t really hear what she says because it’s supremely loud, then I do an incredulous face to flatter her, and so on. This happens until it becomes magic in
the moonlight or something of the sort I suppose.
When the mood has struck uncomfortable and I’ve run out of plagiarized
lines to call my own, I quickly deploy one of my patented smooth lines like “let’s check
out the bathroom” or “let’s make out” due to them working more frequently than
my other go to line of “ughhh”. So
things progress to a PG-13 level and I’m pushing to at least get into soft R
territory. And then the thought hits
me. I want to try on her glasses and see
her prescription. I want to see how bad
her eyes really are. Oh that’s a sexy
thought indeed. I can’t wait to trade
glasses with this woman and have us marvel at how poor/not that bad our
respective visions are. I bring up my rather naughty suggestion and she readily agrees. When I gaze through the lenses of her glasses I get a massive, but sexy, headache due to their weak ass prescription. I look up from the searing pain to see her struggling with depth and perception as she puts on my Harry
Potter/John Lennon specs and I know we just reached a tender place that few could ever
hope to attain. Nothing is sexier than
the sacred changing of prescriptions and then the even more sacred trying to
fuck each other while not being able see.
Two of us with our hands outstretched, feeling each other up like we
were the old blind men in the elephant story.
We attempt to look into each other’s eyes and when we finally succeed,
we see a look that is a cross between a squint and having two lazy eyes. If we could see our faces with our own prescriptions,
we would never cease to vomit. But because
we are graced with each other’s sight enhancers it only looks mildly
unattractive.
Naturally, we take off each other’s glasses because we are
both besieged with incredible nausea and resolve to take a “quick 5”. Not fully recovered yet, we both dive in
after 5 minutes and then the rest becomes a fairly amusing story for people to
listen to. What happens after the
encounter, you may wonder? For that I say,
I have no idea she was weird or something and I’m an idiot or whatever. It’s not important and I totally don’t care
anymore. Regardless, I am always looking
for that next special somebody who wears a pair of real glasses, not ones for
aesthetic purposes. I’m talking about
those who wear glasses because their vision is 20/200. Then the old game of two people having
disgusting and ugly, ugly sex commences once again.
FIN
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