SPECS MANIAC
There are supposedly Seven Ages of Man and the Fourth Age has to be that of ‘Specs Maniac’.
For blokes, it all goes downhill, from the head down, according to Angela in our office. The eyes go, then it’s hard-of-hearing. As you get even older, then the hardness stops. It becomes increasingly difficult to get hard-of-anything.
Anyway, I went in this morning for an eye test and was amazed at how much time and effort they lavished on me, but in reality, it’s all a clever and calculated marketing process, that culminates when you get the outrageous bill for the specs!
Believe me, there's no such thing as a free eye test.
Because it's official, I now need them. In two weeks time, when the lenses (made out of diamond, if the cost is anything to go by) are ready, you can call me a Specky bastard, or a four-eyed tw*t. I’ve been called worse. Sadly, I now will have to pay penance for all the bespectacled friends and enemies I have pilloried over the years. I can still give all my baldy mates pelters, but for how much longer? Ach, who wants fat hair anyway?
They used to be called Opticians but it’s all changed now. By God, they are efficient. You’ve got to stick your head in various large machines, that all look like some kind of medieval torture device. And there are forms to fill out asking you everything.
All the forms are very badly photocopied and are blurred, with a tiny typeface, just to take the piss and make you even more paranoid.
Although I thought some of it was a bit personal. On the multi-page form, it asks you about many maladies, ailments and habits, including your teenage levels of self-abuse. The scale went from "1" which was "Severe Catholic Guilt-mild" going right up to "10" for "I had hippy parents-overly excessive".
I obviously had to put "11"...
I always thought that self-abuse/blindness scenario was an urban or rather a bedroom myth but apparently not. The smiling sales girl said, if I'd worn boxing gloves to bed as a youth, it would have saved all the problems now.
Also it was a thorough inspection but was the rubber glove and lubricant really needed? The Ophthalmic bloke wasn't even that good looking.
That was the “science” bit over. You then get thrown to the sales wolves. It's a big sales pitch at the end and of course, the very attractive sales girl tells you all about the "incredible two-for-one" free specs on offer. Choose ANYTHING ...from the “free” area of spectacles.
It’s a bit like the Funfair. Huge, expensive, fluffy teddies on the top shelf on show, but when you hit the Bull’s eye, you get to choose from the out-of-date football chewing gum and fake-fur Gonks, with paper eyes, glued to a stick...
Fine, if you want to look like Frank Butcher or Fred Scuttle but this spectacle "wall of dearth" does not exactly throw-up ‘Spec-Wearer of The Year’ possibilities.
Opt for anything other than the bog-standard, Gumby, inmate of a corrective institute, kiddie-fiddler look and it costs.
Woman can have the “Rose West” or the ravishing “Deirdre Barlow” looks, as part of this same, "amazing deal".
I've opted for two pairs, NOT from the “free” wall and although it cost a bit more, I will not look quite as menacing …or as simple. The girl assured me in a real “hmmm… suits YOU sir” kind of fashion, that I looked handsome, debonair and a lot more intelligent in spectacles, especially the really expensive ones.
In the end and after what appeared to be hours of mild hilarity and self-confidence-denting glances, I chose two sets. One pair, normal and inoffensive, for everyday wear. The other pair? Well, if I’m honest, they are stupid, ridiculous designer w*nk that I'll probably get fed-up with after an hour and will make me look like “Fronk” from the movie “Parenthood”.
The old adage is that your eyes are the window to your soul and wearing one pair, I'll unquestionably look an R-soul.
I expect a number of people to remind me of this. Frequently.
Published in The Drum Magazine - Scotland's most popular media and marketing read.