Transgressions by Dieter
I waited impatiently as the doctor flipped lenses soliciting my feedback. Though he’d always been kind and professional, I had never enjoyed eye exams. Perhaps that had been brought on by my surprise at suddenly needing glasses at the tender age of ten. Back then, Dr. Weisz had been recently graduated from optometry school. We’d sort of grown up together. “You know, Maiya,” he said, “it’s been three or four years since you’ve visited us. I hear you’ve finished your doctorate in chemistry.” He was right and I hadn’t had an exam since before starting grad school. “You should come back in about a year,” he added. “Hopefully, your prescription won’t change so significantly by then. You’re going to need a rather large increase this time around.” That’s the thing. The myopia always increased. Significant or not, it always did. “I’d also like to recommend that you get ‘Transgressions Lenses’. Your pretty blue eyes seem quite sensitive. Guess they take after you,” he added with a wink. “Transgressions,” I questioned, “I thought they were called Transi . . .” “No these are brand new,” he interrupted. “All my patients seem to prefer them over the other brand.” “But still,” I replied, “that’s a rather odd name isn’t it?” “Just talk with Joanie out in the shop," he subtly brushed me off. “See you in a year?” I nodded in the affirmative direction, cheerlessly left the exam room and seated myself at a table with mirrors where Joanie began selecting frames for my benefit. She was new, at least to me. It was obvious that the optical shop had been upgraded considerably since my last visit. I suspected that Joanie had been a big factor in the massive improvement to the display area. She worked slowly trying many frames on my face. Detail was of the utmost importance; styles, sizes, colors, and shapes. Even lens size was considered. With her, nothing was left for chance. I began to place my trust in her and hoped for the best. Joanie assured me that I would love the new ‘Transgressions Lenses’. Still, I had to be convinced. What an odd name to market? When finished I walked down the block to a coffee shop. It would be a great place to kill time while I waited for my glasses to be made. Maybe a latte could improve my disposition? Reviewing the menu behind the counter reminded me of the myopic progression my eyes had made in recent years. Simply put, there was nothing I could read except the large letters that stated the name of the establishment and even those were fuzzy. But while standing in line I did recognize Catherine, an old friend from high school, brewing espresso behind the counter. I hadn’t seen her in many years and she had joined the ranks of the bespectacled since then. She waived and smiled when she saw me. From the cashier, I ordered something familiar that I knew they would make readily and then sat at a small round table with tall chairs by the window. Fishing through my purse, I found my prescription and began reviewing.
Weisz Eye Care Name: Maiya P. Powers OD -9.25 -2.25 080 OS -9.75 -1.50 035 Remarks: Transgressions Lenses recommended
Fantastic, I thought sarcastically. What a great way to spend a Saturday morning. I’m now a myope afflicted in the range of ‘high’. The astigmatism alone would require the use of correction full time. Why had I been chosen to spend my life with this malady? I’d tried contacts in high school but that had been a nightmare. Did I mention my astigmatism? I’d checked on laser surgery and found that I wasn’t a candidate. Wasn’t it enough that I had always been the skinny, frail girl that could blow away in a stiff wind? Was it really necessary that I be half blind as well? Why can’t I live up to my name? Powers. With a name like Powers . . . . . I mean, I ought to have something special.
“Maiya, it’s wonderful to see you. It’s been years,” Catherine said while delivering my hot mocha. “May I sit with you?”
“Please,” I replied.
“So what have you been up to?”
“I recently started working at Elan Pharmaceuticals,” I answered. “All those years in school have finally paid off.”
“You were always the smart one, Maiya. I knew you’d do something spectacular.”
“You’re looking good, Cat. How long have you been working here?”
“Couple of years,” she replied. “I’m the barista. I absolutely love it!”
“I love your glasses,” I said admiringly. She looked the way I wished to look.
“Thanks, I got them from Doc Weisz up the street,” she said pointing a thumb over her shoulder.
“That’s why I’m here. I’m waiting for new ones to be made. I only hope they look as good as yours.”
“If Joanie helped you with them, they will. Hiring her is the smartest thing that Doc Weisz has ever done. You must come by after you get them to show me. I gotta get back to work. Promise you’ll drop by?”
As Joanie fitted my glasses, I had to admit that I’d never looked so good. Everything about my face seemed much nicer; my color, my eyebrows, even my ears. Had I never been properly fitted before?
I went back to the coffee house to get lunch. This time I sat by the wall. While eating a chicken salad sandwich, Catherine sat down across the table.
“Oh, Maiya. Those glasses are gorgeous and look perfect on you! I’ve always been jealous of your beautiful hair and wonderful coloring.”
I turned to view myself in the mirrored wall. The frames that Joanie helped me pick had a very broad lens size with wide temple pieces. Their effect widened my narrow face and diminished my somewhat long nose. Their color accentuated the blue hues of my eyes and weren’t bad with my shade of skin either. I had to be honest with myself. I was much prettier wearing the glasses than otherwise.
Because of the boldness of the frames, Joanie had not suggested nor worked too hard to reduce the thickness of the lenses. The flatness of their plano fronts glistened when I move my head. That felt kind of sexy. They had a luster that sparkled like twinkling stars and the way they intensified my eyes was amazing. There was no doubt in my mind; everything about the glasses was an improvement. Catherine was so right.
“Thanks, Cat,” I said smiling brightly.
“Hey Maiya,” she continued. “Do you have plans tonight? I thought it might be fun to go clubbing. Just two hot chicks with glasses!”
“Sure,” I answered. “I haven’t done anything fun in forever.”
“Okay, I get off at eight. I can change in back. Meet me here a few minutes after.”
I left the coffee house beaming from ear to ear. Catherine had me pumped. I felt good about myself. Why shouldn’t I? On the way to my car, I passed a tattoo parlor. Yeah, I heard about this place. Everyone says it’s the best place to get a ‘tat’. I’m doing it! I had a drawing in my purse that I had dreamed of using for years. Without hesitation, I stepped inside the door and walked towards a lady behind the counter.
“I’d like to get a tattoo of this lotus flower,” I insisted, showing my drawing.
The pierced and tattooed lady behind the counter responded, “We can do that. Do you have a preference in artists?”
“I’ve been told that ‘Stencil’ is the best. Is he available?”
“He will be in a few minutes. Have a seat and think about any colors you’d prefer.”
A short time later, I left the front door with a radiant lotus on the back of my neck. Not only that but ‘Stencil’ had convinced me to get a couple of additional piercings in the upper part of one of my ears. For some reason, it had been an ’easy sell’. I’d had fun searching for pretty studs and chosen two connected by a small chain, but now my ear was throbbing like a mother. The skin on my neck was sore, too. Thank god it was a spot that wasn’t getting rubbed by any articles of clothing. I’m sure the tattooed spot looked rather raw, but it didn’t really matter since it was covered by my long black hair. I just couldn’t seem to help myself . . . . .
Outside the tattoo parlor, my eye was caught by the cutest little black dress in the shop next door. Maybe cute isn’t quite the right description. That sucker was downright slinky! I had to look closer. The sales lady was more than accommodating, of course. By the time she was finished with me, I not only had the dress, I had the sexiest opaque black stockings and sparkly silver ’eff me’ pumps with six inch spikes and red soles.
I felt so friggen’ hot when I emerged from the door of that dress shop. Needing only to kill an hour before meeting Catherine, I window-shopped while strolling the sidewalk. It wasn’t just the clothes. I never had glasses that felt so pretty to wear. Not only could I see perfectly, but I caught the reflection of a couple of guys checking me out. That was an absolutely new experience for me. But why not? Since I’d reached my mid-twenties, I’d gained just enough weight to have a shape. Sure I’m still very thin, but now I look a little more fit than the more voluptuous girls who were beginning to look . . . well . . . a bit plump.
But, I also caught my own reflection and it was then that I realized the lenses had turned my new specs into sunglasses. It was comfortable to view the world without wincing from that blazing orb in the sky. Continuing my stroll, I felt sexier with every step. Awesome!
Half past eight, Catherine and I were leaving the coffee shop and heading for the singles bar. While walking, we exchanged small talk to catch up with the years we’d been apart. And though I enjoyed the conversation, my mind wandered. I couldn’t stop thinking of the crazy decisions I’d made since retrieving my new glasses. I don’t know what had come over me but I had no regrets.
Stepping into the darkness inside the club, I sensed my lenses returning to a state of clearness. There just was no denying that I was still a girl with glasses. However, at this point, I was beginning to feel as though I was possessed with something special. We quickly ordered drinks but not a minute too soon . . . I needed some painkiller. It wasn’t long before guys were taking second looks at the two of us. That was the most wonderful feeling. I had never felt desirable in situations like this. It was wonderful to be a part of the crowd instead of a ‘wallflower’.
“Can we buy you lovely ladies another drink?”
Startled, I turned to see two guys that had approached us before dropping their question. Both of them were good looking young men and it was obvious they had made decisions previously on their choice of females. The one that spoke was looking directly at Catherine. ‘My guy’ was wearing glasses. That seemed rather tidy to me. With little hesitation, I heard Catherine answer.
“Sure. Have a seat and join us,” she invited motioning to the empty chairs at our table while tossing a wink my way.
“What are you drinking?” ‘glasses guy’ asked.
“Mojitos,” I responded with a smile. “Yeah, we’re having ‘girly’ drinks”.
As the evening proceeded, we added more drinks to go with sliders and jalapeno poppers. Spicy! ‘Glasses guy’ was relatively tall, slender, with dark eyes and hair, and had an enticing amount of stubble since having shaved in the morning.
“Cigarette?” ‘glasses guy’ asked.
The last time I’d smoked was while experimenting with dorm mates during my sophomore year in college and that was mostly more about getting primed for joints, something I definitely hadn’t done since.
“Why not,” I answered with reckless abandon.
I could think of a thousand reasons why not, but inhaled vigorously as he lit my cigarette with a fancy black lighter he’d produced from his pocket. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking but the smoke felt familiar as it fogged my airways. Catherine gave me another wink. She could tell I was making every effort to enjoy the night.
“I love your tattoo,” ‘glasses guy’ commended.
“Oh, thanks,” I replied pulling my hair up with my hands so he could get a better look. “It’s still sensitive.”
“Even in this dark light,” he added, “I can see it’s a little red. It must be very new. But I really like your glasses”, he added without waiting for my reply. “They look quite randy on you. I’ve always had a thing for girls with glasses. They just seem more confident and desirable. Now you know my life story.”
“I got both the ’tat’ and glasses just this afternoon,” I finally replied. I didn’t reveal that almost everything else was new as well.
Okay, it was apparent that ‘glasses guy’ had a bit of hinky optical obsession going on. But who was I to judge? I mean, especially, if I was the object of his kinky affection. Bring it on, babe!
As the evening progressed, we danced, consumed more drinks, smoked, and continued conversation. I had never felt so at ease with complete strangers. It was then I heard a familiar voice.
“Cat, Maiya, you look to be having fun!”
I turned to discover Doc Weisz clubbing with the best of us. With a gorgeous blond woman attached to his arm, I suddenly realized that she was Joanie. Well why not? He was a relatively young man. In only his early forties, I had heard stories often that he was a confirmed bachelor and known to be a ’ladies man’. But perhaps he’d found that special lady, finally. She had certainly made a difference in his business.
“I see you’re getting on well with your new glasses, Maiya,” Joanie commented.
“Yes, I’m quite happy with them,” I responded, “and I’m having the time of my life tonight.”
“I told you all my patients prefer the ‘Transgressions Lenses’,” Doc Weisz reminded. “From my observations, that might be an understatement.”
Was it really so simple? Was I having so much fun just because I was wearing ‘Transgressions Lenses’? Though not plausible, it did seem that I had discovered something special. Had my behavior changed that much? Was I more willing to try new things or take more chances? Maybe I had finally learned to accept who I really am. I’m not like everyone else for christsake. I’m smart, attractive, successful and damned unique. Sure I’m academic. But, I’m a well paid academic. Nothing wrong with that.
And then it hit me like a brick. The answer had been right there on my prescription form. It was attached to my office door. It was displayed on the placard on my desk; on the Elan Pharmaceuticals phone list; on my driver’s license; business cards; anything at all that had my name on it. That’s right. I am Maiya P. Powers. Say it fast. It’s who I am and what I have!
By Dieter, written 6/6/2012