Showing posts with label Flashback Friday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flashback Friday. Show all posts

Friday, May 29, 2026

A Friday Fry-Day, Blurred Horizons,

 




## A Friday Fry-Day, Blurred Horizons, and Navigating the Dark πŸŸπŸ‘“

Today was supposed to be a straightforward, ordinary Friday. πŸ—“️ I decided to treat myself and take advantage of the Friday deal at McDonald's—you know the one, where you buy a large drink and score a free order of fries. πŸ₯€πŸŸ It had been a while since I'd done that, and honestly, walking in to get those fries and a cold drink hit the spot perfectly. πŸ˜‹

But the real drama of the day didn't happen at the counter; it happened right on my face. 🀦‍♂️

For a bit, I was thoroughly convinced that my left glasses lens had cracked internally. It was incredibly confusing because plastic lenses aren't supposed to fracture like old-school glass, but there was this unmistakable, maddening line running right through my field of vision. πŸ” After consulting with my AI companion, the mystery was finally solved: it’s a semi-rimless frame held together by a tiny nylon string, and that sneaky little wire has slipped out of its groove and wedged itself completely out of place. πŸ§΅πŸ˜…

The good news is that it’s entirely repairable. The bad news? I can’t get it fixed until my optometrist opens on Monday morning. πŸ₯

Now, you might be thinking, *"Hey Andrew, that’s not so bad, just wear them anyway to get through the weekend."* And look, I agree it could be worse! But with the left lens sitting completely wonky, it totally distorts my vision. Worse yet, without that nylon string holding it secure, there is a very real danger that the lens could just pop out randomly, fall onto the pavement, and get permanently scratched up. πŸ’₯πŸƒ‍♂️ I can't risk ruining the lens entirely, so the glasses are officially benched until Monday. πŸ›‘

And don't even ask about my backup pair. 🀦‍♂️ I dug them out, only to remember exactly why I replaced them in the first place—the right lens has a massive scratch right down the center, and the right hinge is completely broken! If I bend down even a fraction, they will fly right off my face. So, it's either funhouse-mirror vision on the left, a scratched lens and no hinge on the right, or just going completely bare-faced. 🀷‍♂️

Knowing myself, if I try to wear the broken ones, I will completely hyper-focus on that nylon wire or the scratch until I drive myself completely batty. πŸ€ͺ So, I'm choosing my sanity—I'll be navigating the weekend without any glasses at all! πŸ•Ά️❌

This sets up a rather interesting obstacle course for the next two days. πŸ§—‍♂️

Tomorrow morning is the Men’s Breakfast, which I’ve been really looking forward to. πŸ₯žπŸ³ Then on Sunday, I'm scheduled to greet at church. That is going to be an absolute trip! ⛪πŸ‘‹ I won't be able to clearly see anyone's face until they are standing right in front of me! It's definitely going to make socializing and recognizing people a bit more difficult than when I actually have my spectacles working properly. πŸ₯ΈπŸ§

Bagging those layout shots of the empty church lobby tomorrow morning before the breakfast is going to be a real test of my blurry vision, but hey—the show must go on! πŸŽ¬πŸ“Έ Luckily, the church is just within my walking range, so I can handle the trek on foot. I guess I'm a survivor, and I'll find a way to navigate the blur. 🀠

This whole situation actually takes me back to a memory from when I was about 22 or 23 years old. πŸŽ’ I was down in Cannon Beach, and a friend of mine accidentally sat on my glasses and physically broke them. 🌊πŸ’₯ At the time, I was working at the conference center as a waiter, and they had a grand band of waitstaff. With my glasses completely ruined, I had to figure out a way to do my job waiting tables without being able to see. 🍽️πŸƒ‍♂️

And you know what? I did it. πŸ’ͺ

Granted, back then, this was pre-stroke. I had my full, normal field of vision and didn't have any other handicaps at the time. So, I learned to adapt. I would walk up to each table, and while I couldn't see details, I could make out blurry shapes. πŸ‘️‍ΨΉΩˆΩ† I could see just enough to know when a table needed more dinner rolls or a refill. 🍞☕ I managed to get away with it because I had to go up to every single table and pretend like I could see everything perfectly. I had to fool all the guests! πŸ₯·✨

The hilarious irony of it all was that it actually made me a really fantastic waiter! πŸ† Everyone thought I was just being incredibly attentive to the tables I was waiting on, but the reality was, because I couldn't see, I *had* to be that close and attentive just to know what was going on. πŸ•΅️‍♂️ It’s kind of funny when you think about it. πŸ˜‚

I don't know if anyone else will think this is a funny enough story to read or not, but that’s up to you, my readers. πŸ“–πŸ‘‡ That is the story of my day and my history with glasses.

Have a nice Friday, and good night! πŸŒ™πŸ’€