To Be Clear...

There was a bit in the last thing I wrote that wasn’t strictly true and has been slightly misinterpreted so I feel I should clarify matters. Amazingly, the untrue bit WASN’T the thing about going to the movies with TWO (count ‘em!) gorgeous women although you’ll have noticed I was careful not to specify whether they were human or inflatable.

No, the bit I’m referring to was the medical diagnosis which, although I still maintain came as something of a shock, is not likely to warrant a hasty revision of my will any time soon. So, for the friend who texted me enquiring about the availability of my Scalextric should I “shuffle off to a better place” I say “tough titties”! (And no, that wasn’t the diagnosis.) Mind you, maybe he meant something else? Like Disney World? Or Pizza Express?

Anyway, two Thursdays ago a so-called “medical expert” pitched up at our office building offering “free tests and advice”. I heard a rumour he’d arrived at the front door with his horse and snake oil caravan but it’d gone by the time I went outside for a cigarette/to check for myself.

Things didn’t start well when he turned out not to be the same hot chick who conducted the very same tests on me almost three years ago so I wasn’t in the best of moods to put up with his crazy smoke ‘n mirrors hocus-pocus. Twenty minutes later when he concluded his “evaluation” with an unnecessary (in my book) chicken-beheading, he shook his beaded rattle and declared that I required “a correction” for a “slightly lazy” left eye.

“Your right eye is perfect Mr Sutherland,” he wailed as the headless chicken ran into the wall, “but it’s doing some of the work for your left eye so I’m recommending a mild prescription for glasses, to be worn if your eyes start to feel tired in the afternoon.”

I just sat there dazed and open-mouthed (he’d managed to re-attach the chicken’s head) barely able to digest what he was telling me. Glasses? After forty-four and a half years of perfect 20:20 vision? Why God, WHY did this have to happen to me? And why glasses? If it’s only one eye, wouldn’t a monocle suffice? Mind you, if I got a monocle I’d also need a butler.

So many cherished hopes and plans now lie dying in the dust. As a good friend so correctly pointed out to me this week, “Well that’s your dream of flying jets at Top Gun f#cked!” And I had such a cool nickname picked out too… Jetboy!

If I’m totally honest, I’ve had my suspicions that my left eye has been a bit lazy for some time now. It’s always the last one to open in the morning and just doesn’t have the work ethic or reaction time of the right. And its attitude is questionable also. Every time a cute girl passes my window when I’m writing, the right eye snaps to attention and follows her while the left is still staring at the keyboard tryng 2 mke snse of al the lttrz thatve gawn all fzzy ‘n blrrd. (Wow, she was nice!)

Obviously, I’ve had to rethink my image makeover for 2008 which I envisage will now look like my cousin Kiefer here. But it’s not all bad news. Another friend remarked to me that glasses will “make u look clever and u can see the burdz more clearly.” I’m also looking forward to whipping them off dramatically during boring work meetings and pensively chewing the ends to indicate I’m formulating some profound argument and fully understanding what the hell they’re all talking about.

On a semi-serious note, I was quite touched that people I care about sent text messages and emails or left comments this week enquiring about my well-being so thanks very much to you all for your concern and apologies if I alarmed you in any way. And to my wee brother Keith who simply asked, “so tell me more about the cinema babes”, I like your style bro!