Due to a frame-based malfunction, my sunglasses are currently being held together by electrical tape. This makes me feel like a
light-sensitive Jack Duckworth.
It was while walking home from setting up Thursday’s Mostly Comedy that I noticed something wasn't right. My glasses
felt abnormal on my face. On closer inspection, I discovered that the frames had snapped at the bridge; as far as specs go, this was pretty calamitous. I got them out of my bag later on, to show Glyn the damage, to find that one of the lenses had
fallen out completely. They'd morphed from a protective eye-shield to a comedy
prop in a matter of minutes.
They're not my main pair to be fair,
though sadly, these are also out of service. A screw fell out during my honeymoon and I've yet to replace it. The snapped ones
were bought from a market stall mere metres from the incident, so considering their price they've had a good innings. It's still disappointing. Until I
source a tiny screw and a magnetic screwdriver, I either have to wear the
taped-up pair or risk blindness (though I could stop staring at the
Sun).
There's a ridiculous addendum to this predicament. One of my friends manages an opticians’. I’d ask him to fix
them if it didn’t feel like an imposition. Oh, the things I do to avoid a
conversation.