Here is a very short little story that I wrote over lunchtime - actually I sat down with the idea of having lunch, wearing a pair of -20’s as GOC, and as the bottom of the old frames rubbed on my cheek I had the idea for this story. I hope you enjoy it as it is not my usual format.And now I can eat my lunch. I noticed her as she walked through the doorway into the restaurant. Glasses, outdated by about 5 or 6 years, fairly strong prescription; coat, not threadbare, but definitely worn and almost on its last legs; figure quite acceptable, but her curves were mostly hidden by the coat. Hair showing signs of grey streaks, worn tied back into a pony tail; likely ready to be shorn to a much shorter and more age appropriate style. Going by her appearance she was a lady I wouldn’t mind getting to know better if I had the chance. You might ask what the attraction was. After all she was just another sort of dumpy looking, likely low income lady who had seen better days. But I latched on to her glasses and as the maitre’d lead her to the table for two that was almost next to mine I was pleased that I could get a better look. She sat down facing me, and I could get a much better look now. Her glasses were in style up until around 5 years ago. They were the rectangular plastic ones with the side temples that are still seen on a number of ladies that wear contact lenses but just haven’t had the time, desire or money to get their glasses updated. Her glasses were well worn, so there was no contact lens usage there. I suspected that the prescription in them was a little outdated, because it appeared that the earpieces had been bent a bit shorter to bring the glasses closer to her face, which tends to make the prescription a little stronger. The wide temple sides hid the thickness of her lenses fairly well, but I am fairly experienced in guessing prescriptions and I made a rough determination of her prescription as being in the range of about -17D, maybe as much as -17.50 and the lenses were done in 1.67 hi index plastic. If the glasses were around 10 years old this would have been the best choice for her prescription at that time. I watched her try to read the menu. Oh, I was in heaven. She had to slide her glasses down her nose to see well enough to read. My estimate of her age went up to around 45, because nearsighted people do not need reading glasses quite as soon as people with normal vision. There must have been something she wanted to see that the print had gotten too tiny by her sliding down her glasses because I saw her bring the menu up high enough that she could look out over her glasses and read it by bringing the menu to within inches of her eyes . That is always a problem with doing that, as sliding the glasses away from the bridge of your nose reduces the power of the prescription but it also reduces the size of the printing, She must have made her choice, because she slid her glasses back tight to the bridge of her nose and I could see that the bottom of the frame and her lenses rested on her cheekbones. If she needed more power she could not shove them even a tiny bit closer. And wearing them that close would cause oils from her face to get onto and smudge the lenses I had stared enough – actually likely too much. I decided I would get up and walk over to her table and ask her if she wanted company, and if so would she care to join me at my table. “You were staring. Did you see something you liked?” she asked. “I saw a pretty lady, likely a little younger than me, who looks to be a little down on her luck at the moment and might also be a little lonely like me.” I answered. “You are very observant as you are correct on the down on her luck as well as being lonely. I am not so sure about the pretty part though. My pretty days are behind me.” she replied. ‘Oh, the pretty part is still there. It might take a bit of work to spiffy you up, but I can see the gold glittering through the tarnish.” I told her. “Your words are like music to my ears. My world has been crumbling around me recently and I could use something uplifting. Yes, I will join you, but I will pay for my own lunch.” She said. Now that she was sitting across from me I could stare all I wanted to. The waitress came and took her order, and asked me if I wanted mine held until hers was ready. I had only ordered soup and a sandwich, so it wouldn’t get cold while I waited and I am sure they were going through so much soup they would make sure mine was hot, so I suggested that would be a great idea. As she talked I must admit that her story didn’t surprise me. A husband that had an affair with a younger girl. A wife that forgave him and took him back, only to be cheated on again. Two children that had to be raised to the age of 18, with one still living at home. No money for anything for her. I could have given the plot line of this story off by heart. We ate, and when the bill came I insisted on paying for her lunch as well, even though she objected. In the end she let me pay, but she thanked me 3 or 4 times. I asked her for her name and phone number and I gave her mine. I will call within the next couple of days. It may go somewhere, it may go nowhere. Specs4ever July 2018