by Izzy Lennon
There he was, all alone in the break room, listening to sports radio on his walkman, while eating his brown bagged lunch. At five foot ten inches, 160 pounds, Tim was your typical White Anglo Saxon Protestant. The only thing that made Tim stand out in a crowd was his thick glasses that really magnified his light blue eyes.
While Tim was eating his sandwich, the radio personality announced that he would give his last pair of Knick's tickets to the 25th caller. There probably wasn't a bigger Knicks fan in the tri-state area than Tim. Poor unlucky Tim picked up his cell phone and called.
Tim nearly wet his pants when the voice on the other end said: "Congratulations caller 25! You've just won a pair of tickets, ON THE FLOOR, to tonight's Knicks game at Madison Square Garden."
"Oh my Gosh! I have never won anything in my life!" Tim replied
"What's your name caller 25?"
"Do you have a last name Tim?"
"Yes sir. It's Dalton, sir. Tim Dalton, sir."
"What do you do Tim Dalton sir?"
"I'm a computer programmer for Midtown Bank, sir."
"Tim, enjoy the game tonight. Stay on the line..."
Tim then spoke to the intern who gave him details on which window to pick up his tickets. As he finished his call, Joe Rodriguez strutted into the break room. Joe dumped out the pot of coffee, that was on the burner, and started to brew a fresh pot. At 6 feet tall, Joe, a native of Cuba. was blessed with rugged good looks.
"Hi Tim! TGIF!"
"Hi Joe. Did you have a good lunch?"
"Good? It was great! I went to Casa Cubana. I go there every Friday. How about your lunch? What did you have?"
"Bologna and cheese and a Snickers bar."
"Tim, that stuff is going to kill you. Monday I am taking you for some real food."
"OK. That will be good."
Tim could not believe his ears. Of all the tellers at Midtown Bank, Joe had always been the nicest one. Tim also thought that Joe was very handsome, but he wasn't sure if he was having gay thoughts or not. Whether or not he was, there was one thing he was sure of. Being seen in public with Joe Rodriguez would definitely do wonders for his social status.
Joe excused himself while he left the break room to fetch his cup from his teller window. He returned about 45 seconds later with his new NY Knicks travel mug. He filled his mug with coffee and placed it on Tim's table as he added the cream and sugar.
"Are you a Knicks fan, Joe?"
"The biggest! Are you?"
"Oh yeah! Are you going to tonight's game?"
"On my bank teller's salary? I'm not likely to go to any games. I'll definitely be home watching though."
"Joe, I'd like you to be my guest for tonight's game."
"Tim, as much as I would like to go, that's far too generous of you. Knicks tickets are really expensive. You can't do that."
Tim smiled and told Joe that he had won the tickets but didn't mention that the seats were on the floor. Joe smiled back, and accepted the invitation.
"Will you need to go home before the game?" Tim asked
Laughing, Joe replied "If I go home first, I'll miss half the game. I live in The Bronx. I've got my gym bag with me and I've got some casual clothes in it too. I was planning on working out right after work."
"I live in Clinton." Tim said "Here's my address. How about if you come over when you're done at the gym. We can walk to The Garden from there."
"Sounds good to me. See you later."
Tim felt like a school girl about to have a date with the captain of the football team. Poor unlucky Tim's luck was changing.
Joe arrived at Tim's apartment about an hour before the game. Joe was impressed with the fact that Tim lived in a doorman building. He laughed when Tim told him, that he found the apartment, when a wrong number, led to a conversation and to a meeting with the building's super. Tim's apartment was nice, but very simply decorated, mostly with furnishings from Ikea. The bed was quite small - a twin size. On the other hand, the desk was quite large. In reality, it was a glass top dining table that could easily seat eight .
On the desk were Tim's three computers: a brand new Dell PC; an orange iMac; and a futuristic Japanese laptop. Also on the desk were Tim's computer glasses which had +10Rx lenses. He only wore these when working on the tiny Japanese computer. The rest of the time his +8Rx glasses sufficed.
Tim was smiling ear to ear. He was wearing his Knicks jersey and sneakers. He looked like a true sports fan. Tim even had a Knicks sports strap on his glasses which Joe joked about.
"Looking good buddy! You even have the glasses jockstrap. Are you playing tonight too?" Joe asked
"I wish. Actually I always wear a strap when I'm anywhere that may involve crowds and shoving. If my glasses get knocked off, I'll be so screwed. I'm so blind."
"You're telling me!" Joe replied
Tim's smile disappeared as he asked "Are you making fun of my vision, Joe?"
"Oh my God, no Tim, I'm not making fun of you. What I meant is that, well, I know about being blind without glasses. I wear contacts, and, without them, or my glasses, oh my God, I am so, oh...I'm sorry Tim, I..."
Tim's smile returned as he placed his index finger on Joe's mouth and told him to forget about it. Joe gave Tim a Latin half hug. They both laughed it off and headed to Madison Square Garden. Tim picked up the tickets. As he handed one to Joe he said:
"Oh, by the way, our seats are on the floor."
Joe smiled, 'high fived' Tim, and thanked him for inviting him. He bought his new friend a beer. Once they found their seats, Joe asked Tim to hold his beer while he wetted his contact lenses. "Much better. My contacts were so dry. Do you ever wear contacts, Tim?"
"I tried some when I was 13 but they were so uncomfortable. I never tried them again. My whole life, I don't remember not wearing glasses, so, I guess I'm stuck with them. But contacts would be good for sports and stuff."
"How old are you now?" Joe asked
"29? Contact lens technology has come a long way in 16 years. If you ever want to try contacts again, I've got a great doctor in Yonkers."
"Thanks. Do you like wearing contacts, Joe?"
"Actually, Tim, I've only been wearing contacts for two years. I got them when I graduated from college. My advisor suggested I get them before I start interviewing. I felt a bit strange being told this by a guy with glasses almost as strong as mine."
"Did you ask him why he wasn't wearing contacts?"
"I sure did. He told me that in the academic world, not only are glasses acceptable but sometimes encouraged because people still have the mentality that glasses equal intelligence. Since I was looking for more of a customer service job, like my woderful bank teller job, he felt that glasses might hinder my chances of finding a job."
"Damn! That's discrimination!" Tim said "I resemble that remark!"
Both Joe and Tim had a good laugh before Joe told Tim that he really did not like wearing contacts. Joe admitted that, though his vision is better with contacts, the first thing he does when he gets home is switch to his glasses. "I've had glasses so long too that it feels weird not to have them on."
The game started but it had neither Tim, nor Joe's, attention. Tim was distracted by the feelings he was having toward Joe. Joe was distracted by the celebrities. At one point he even uttered under his breath "God, I'd like to fog up Spike Lee's glasses." Tim heard him and asked him what he said. Joe thought quick and said "Um, I like those funky Spike Lee glasses." Tim smiled and thought "God, I'd like to fog up Joe's glasses. I can't wait to see them. I wonder if he's farsighted like me, or nearsighted. I hope, he's as nearsighted, as I am farsighted. I like the way nearsighted glasses form all those circles. Oh God, I'm having gay thoughts again."
Tim excused himself, went to the men's room, and waited for his erection to subside. Tim had never felt the way he was feeling, not even about a woman. Though he was no virgin, he was relatively inexperienced with women. The few women that he dated always wanted to remove his glasses to see his 'baby blue' eyes. He also recalled that every woman he spent time with, thought he should get contact lenses. Sure, Joe mentioned contact lenses, but that was different. Wasn't it? After all, Joe, himself, had bad vision, and said he liked glasses.
Tim, loosened the sports strap on his glasses and dropped his glasses around his neck. He stood close to the mirror to see himself. He liked what he saw and thought about asking Joe for the contact lens doctor's number. He put his glasses back on and tightened the strap. He left the men's room and joined Joe, who asked him, what he was smiling about.
Tim replied: "It's a Friday night and me, a geeky computer programer, is at a Knicks game with a lady's man who can have his pick of any woman in New York City, but instead, is hanging out with me. Thanks! I don't have many friends. I'm having fun hanging out with you."
"I'm having fun too, Tim. Let me tell you though, things are not always what they seem."
"Really?" Tim asked
"Yes, really." Joe replied as he kissed Tim on the cheek
Both men felt more than a twinge in their groin areas. They enjoyed the rest of the game, while occasionally catching each other's glances and smiles. As the game was over and they were walking along Seventh Avenue, Joe asked Tim if he had ever had a Mojito.
"A mo what toe?" Tim asked
"A Mojito, it's a Cuban cocktail made with rum, mint, lime, and sugar cane. It's my specialty. Wanna come to my place for a couple?"
"You mean in The Bronx?" Tim asked "I've never been to The Bronx. Isn't it far? Won't it take a long time for me to get back home?"
"Only if you want to come back home." Joe said "You're welcome to stay."
"Really?" Tim asked
"Yes, really." Joe replied, as he put his arm around Tim's shoulder. They headed to the subway. About forty minutes later, they arrived in Joe's neighborhood. They stopped to pick up some Cuban Sandwiches at the bodega before going to Joe's apartment.
"Nice apartment!" Tim exclaimed "Wow, what's that wonderful smell?"
"That's the mint that were using for the Mojitos. Doesn't it smell great?"
"It sure does." Tim replied, before offering his help with making the drinks.
"Could you separate the mint leaves, and cut the limes in half, while I take out my lenses?" Joe asked "I want to get these things out before I start squeezing limes. I once made the mistake of taking out my contacts while there was still lime juice on my finger. Man, did that hurt.?"
Tim's wish about Joe being nearsighted had come true. Joe's glasses were even stronger than Tim had hoped for. His thick, polished edge, lenses in stylish LaFont frames created rings galore. Tim smiled as Joe exited the bathroom and joined him at the counter. Joe stood close behind Tim and put his arms around him. He placed his hands on Tim's stomach and moved them down slowly, brushing Tim's semi-erect penis.
"That feels nice." Joe said
"Yours feels nice behind me too." Tim said with a smile
"Let's make these drinks." Joe said, as he tried to gain some composure.
They sat at the kitchen table enjoying their sandwiches, drinks and conversation. When they had finished eating, Joe told Tim that he wanted to show him something. He took Tim by the hand and walked him to the window. "See those lights?" he asked
"Oh my God, that's Yankee Stadium! Oh my God, and I can see the Empire State Building and the skyline. Oh my God! What a great view!" Tim exclaimed
"Stand right there." Joe told Tim as he placed him in front of the window and took a few steps back to look at him, the stadium, and the skyline "Now, the view is perfect! I really like you Tim. Thanks for inviting me to the game tonight."
"Thanks for accepting my invitation." Tim said, as he embraced and kissed Joe. They kissed a few more times, never once did their glasses touch. It was as if they had been longtime lovers that had mastered the glasses kiss.
"I've got something else to show you" Joe told Tim as he walked him back to sofa "but you've got to promise not to tell anyone at the bank, OK?"
Tim kissed Joe, this time touching Joe's glasses slightly. He then told Joe that his secret and many others were safe. Joe returned with a thin black book.
"What's this?" Tim asked
"It's my portfolio. I'm going to try modeling." Joe replied
In the book were ten photographs. The first was of Joe dressed as a pilot sitting in an airplane. "Wow! This is a great picture! You should send it to an airline. it would be a great ad. Where did you shoot it?"
"That was taken at Newark Airport." Joe replied "The photographer is good friends with the head of security there. It was a fun shoot. Alot of kids really thought that I was a pilot. Can you imagine ME, a pilot? With THESE coke bottles?"
"I'd fly with you Joe. What's the worse that someone's eyes can be to be a pilot?" Tim asked
"I don't know, but these babies are -15." Joe replied "I told you I was blind. What's your prescription?"
"I'm +8. I thought my eyes were bad. Wanna trade glasses for a minute?"
"Tim, I guess this is what it's like to need a -23 prescription."
"And this must be what it's like to need +23. Wow, Joe! We're fucking blind, huh? Can I switch back, now. I want to see the rest of your pictures."
As they looked at the rest of the portfolio, Joe expained each of the pictures. He also told Tim that he had been scouted by the photographer who was responsible for all the Candies Sandals ads. The last picture showed Joe wearing nothing but a pair of wet underwear. It really revealed Joe's manhood and his muscular 175 pound body.
"Joe, this picture is hot. I think my glasses are fogging up."
"And you're making me hot, Tim." Joe said as he unbuttoned Tim's jersey. Tim pulled off Joe's tight tee shirt removing his glasses, along with the shirt. As Joe retrieved his glasses from the shirt, Tim apologized and unzipped Joe's pants. Joe removed Tim's pants and boxer shorts. The last item of clothes to fall to the floor was Joe's black silk thong, which he removed as he fetched two more Mojitos from the kitchen.
There Ted stood, listening to his heart beat, naked except for his glasses, all alone in Joe's livingroom, knowing that in a few minutes, his life would change in the most beautiful way, as he would make love to gorgeous Joe with the strong glasses that made his eyes so small. What a day it had been. Yet, the best was yet to come.