Where’s my glasses?

“Vern where’s my glasses?”

“In the center console”

“Damn it, these are my old pair.”

“Daddy they’ll work. Just wear them.”

“No, no they’ve been crushed by my butt.  They’re all bent up, old and ugly.  Plus they give me migraines.”

“Fine, then wear the paper ones.”

“I can’t see.  The sun is in my eyes.”  He fiddled around searching for his sunglasses.

“Where’s my sunglass?”

“Why would I know?”

“Come on Vern, I need something to protect my eyes. The sun is killing me.”

“All you had done is get your eyes dilated.  The way you’re acting you’d think you’ve been shot.”

“This is worse.  I’m dying here.  Let me wear yours.  This tinted paper crap is not doing it for me.”


“I need them! All you’re doing is driving.  Here you can have the paper ones the doctor gave me”

“Fine” Vern handed her sunglasses to her father.  He slid them on.  He adjusted his seat so he was leaning back but enough he could still see out the window.  Vern drove to the grocery store.  She parked the car in the back of the parking lot.  “Daddy, I’m going in the store.  I’ll be right back.”  He did not say anything but nodded his head in agreement. 

Later a car full of teenagers drove by.  They noticed the old man with long curly gray hair wearing the large sunglasses with sparkles around the rim and large gold laminated V on the side.  They honked the horn. “Whoo-hoo!  Hey, good look’n!  Sexy glasses!”

Vern was making her way towards the car.  She could hear the ruckus of the teenagers. She could tell the boy’s catcalls were harmless.  She was smitten with laughter.  The boys noticed her walking that way, so they drove off.

“What the hell is wrong with those kids?”

“Maybe you should look in the mirror.”  She pulled down the visor.  He looked in the mirror.

“Ah! I look like a Hollywood drag queen! Why’d you let me wear these awful things?”

Chuckling she said, “I tried. You insisted. You get what you deserve. Those are very glamorous sunglasses.”

“Not funny, Vern. Not funny at all.”

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