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August, 1995

I had a lot of things I wanted to write about today, but I thought I'd take a cue from anarqueso and write a glimpse from the past.

When I was at Medical Center Opticians today, getting my glasses fixed yet again (among the many joyous things that happened last month, I managed to break my glasses not once but twice...), I flashed back on that day in August of 1995 when I had the bicycle accident. As I mentioned in this post, a number of really crappy things happened to me in August 1995. I got dumped, I got mugged, and, on the day in question, I got in an accident.

I was riding my bicycle to work and I hit a patch of unmarked construction and crashed. Split my face open. Spent the better part of the morning in the hospital. The cops drove me home from the hospital, and then I had no clue what to do with myself, so I figured I'd go to Forsite Optical, since I'd damaged my glasses in the crash.

It was a weekday afternoon, but there were a good number of people in there, so I sat and waited my turn. I sort of felt like people were looking at me funny, but then again, I'd had an incredibly crappy morning and had a concussion, so I just sort of wrote it off. Eventually my turn came and I showed the man my glasses. He was a real dem-dese-dose kinda guy - you know, old school Chicago tough guy. He took one look at my glasses and said they couldn't be salvaged, but that he had another pair that the lenses would fit in, and he would give them to me at half price. This made me sad; up until that point Chicago Bob and I had had the exact same pair of glasses and now we wouldn't anymore. Still, I could tell that the man was honestly going out of his way to be nice to me, and I appreciated it. Then I found out why he was being so nice, and why the other customers had been staring: I caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of the many mirrors there and saw that blood had been oozing out of the stitches in the gash on my forehead, and that I had a pretty decent stream of blood running down the right hand side of my face.


I found a Kleenex, wiped my face, thanked the man, and walked home.


( 7 comments — Leave a comment )
Dec. 2nd, 2003 07:19 pm (UTC)
not a fun day
Dec. 2nd, 2003 11:45 pm (UTC)
Unsubscribed at chez92
no big thing...I'm working on the manuscript, etc & it's just such a lovely distraction to argue <: But I can't re-hash old discussions w/ people I have no idea who they are & I can't see anyway...so giving it a rest for a while...not upset...the letter writing campain zapped me for debates
Dec. 3rd, 2003 08:29 am (UTC)
Re: Unsubscribed at chez92
I try my hardest not to get sucked into stuff like that ... no need to unjoin ... just don't have stuff sent to your inbox ... stay a member and just read the threads you want to read ... tho I AM pissed they hijacked the thread about our first years ... but I plan to keep posting about our chicas anyway ...
Dec. 3rd, 2003 11:09 am (UTC)
Damn Hijackers
I'm not unsubscribing forever or anything just taking a break so it's not such a habit to check the site. + THIS 'disability experience" is definetly in my face right now (or rather in my leg)...with the legal thing and pain so I'm definitly sucked in by this one "and just get over it"...actually, if Monica & I can actually get this manuscript into print (her plan is March 2004)...it's gonna rock the house...and it needs serious updating after 3 years sitting on zip disc--got inspired last night (my first night editing hard copy) to write some anti- war stuff....Oops, now I've hijacked *your* journal....WHA HA HA HAAAAAAA

have a good day...I'll be back at chez by x-mas

Dec. 3rd, 2003 05:59 pm (UTC)
Re: Damn Hijackers
Hijack away - I don't mind.

Yes, those Red Menace boys can be more than just a little bit annoying. I don't get what goes on inside their heads. "Hmmm... let's see if I can make everyone hate me ..." Makes no sense to me.

But I will take up where you left off and make sure that our first years' posts get copied to Chez 92. At least I'll try to remember to.
Dec. 3rd, 2003 08:49 am (UTC)
hi. i know you (well, sort of) from Antioch92. i haven't been around there lately, though. and technically, i'm Antioch96. robyn o. here.

my most poignant memory of a glasses shop was walking in to one in Greensboro, NC where I was on co-op, all freshly out and righteous in that Antiochian way. I had a shaved head, which was still pretty rare in those parts, and was wearing a friend's sundress. A dress -- and they STILL called me 'sir'. I was really, really confused.

This has nothing to do with glasses. I don't even remember what I was there for. I remember handing the guy my glasses, waiting for what seemed like a really long time as he took them to another part of the store. My eyesight is extremely bad, and I began to feel more and more vulnerable standing there feeling like everyone could see me but I couldn't see them. So I asked for my glasses back and left.

It was one of those defining moments of coming out. Feeling simultaneously vulnerable and righteous. Not thinking too hard that 'this is what life will be like from now on'. And that youthful relief when people react to your outer self the way you'd always expected them to react to the inner one.

(Well, I didn't mean to go on. Anyway, hi.)
Dec. 3rd, 2003 06:03 pm (UTC)
I'm always fascinated by the other stories that my stories spawn. I will add your journal to the pile that I currently try to read every day.

Sorry to hear the eyeglass people in Greensboro were less than welcoming. I had similar problems, not for being queer but for being a punk. And who calls a woman in a sundress "sir"? Sheesh. What a moron.
( 7 comments — Leave a comment )

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