"I love a rainy night." came blaring across my pick up's radio. And, that, except for snow instead of rain was what was happening. The night was black, and it was hard to see with the snow drifting lightly in front of me. I had loaded that Saturday morning - a gravy trip. Only a thousand pounds of exclusive use automotive parts, bound for St. Louis Mo. I had chosen to take my pick up, rather than an 18 wheeler, and I had left right away, instead of waiting for late that afternoon. This was great. I had checked out some thrift shops in Lansing and Flint Michigan, and tomorrow morning I was going to be in St Louis, for another day of glasses thrift shoping. I was on I 55 just south of Chicago, when my contacts started bugging me enough that it was time to take them out.
I pulled off, and went into a fast food chain, where I stood in line behind a fine looking lady with the nicest strongest glasses in a rimless frame I had ever seen. I guessed her prescription to be at least a -9. The lenses were small, and on a close rear view examination, I could see that they were flattened off a bit at the rear to reduce the edge thickness. As she turned to me, I remarked that her glasses were the nicest I had seen for the prescription, and she beamed with thanks. Unfortunately she was leaving with her take out order, so I was unable to get any more viewing in. I ate, washed my hands, and went back to my truck, where I removed my lenses, and put away my glasses.
Shortly I was back on the interstate, rolling southbound, and just as I glanced at my speedometer to see how fast I was going, came the familiar flashing of a police car. My guts were in knots, as my licence calls for a glasses restriction, and I had no lenses in, or anything. The officer aproached, and the usual get out of the vehicle please got me out with my hands in the air. The pat down, the identification routine, and everything went fine, until he decided to search my truck. Why, I wondered had I brought along so many pairs of glasses. I had 14 pairs in 4 different prescriptions with me. Sure enough, I was soon in the back of the cruiser. Turned out the 2 officers were locals, and had been killing time on the interstate. I told them I collected old eyeglasses as a hobby, but I know that that didn't go over well. I was lucky in that the one officer decided he would drive my pickup to the police station, especially with the value of the parts in the back.
I had never spent a night in jail in my life, but there is always a first time. It was not a pleasant experience, and I do not recommend it as a substitute for a motel room. I don't think I got much more than an hours sleep all night. About nine or so the next morning an officer came to get me to take me to the chief, and we went up the stairs into a well lit, fairly large nicely panelled room. My briefcase was on the desk, open, and my heart dropped. I had forgotten, I had written a few short stories and I had brought them along with me to re read before I sent them in. If this guy had read them I was dead meat, cause then he would know the truth. He turned from the window, and I noticed his glasses right away. They were in a small oval frame, and were high index plastic, probabally about a -11. They were very nicely done, and I had a hard time not commenting. I looked at his desk, and there was a picture of a very attractive woman. As I looked I noticed that she wore glasses - quite thick ones at that. Over on the wall was a family picture of the chief, his wife, and 2 children. They were all wearing glasses, and from the amount of facial indentation, the kids prescriptions were pretty strong as well. However, the chief's glasses didn't appear to be very strong in the picture.
"Are you specs4ever." he asked in what seemed to be a booming voice. My answer left me feeling naked and exposed. The fetish that I have admitted to over the internet had been a faceless exposure, and now, for the first time, someone knew my name, what I looked like, where I lived - in short, way more than I wanted known. I was unmasked, exposed, stripped naked - and any other adjective that could apply. I had no choice I had to tell the truth, or I could be here for a long time. "Yes sir." came my feeble reply.
"I have wanted to meet you for a couple of months now. I have read everything you have written, and all your messages on Eyescene, and I want to thank you for helping me come to terms with my own fetish. I finally got contacts to wear under my glasses." came his words.