It was a warm sultry afternoon when my boss on the newspaper called me into his office. "Kid" he called me "Have I got a job for you. You are nearsighted aren't you?" "Chief, you know I am as blind as a bat without these coke bottles" came my reply "Wh at's up?"
And he proceeded to tell me about a town up in the northern corner of the state. In order to live in this town you had to be nearsighted. No one got in through the gate unless they wore glasses for the correction of myopia. It was going to be my job to go up there, and interview the town mayor, who also happened to be the town eye doctor.
So, I was immediately off to our home, and got my bags packed. I really didn't want to leave until my girlfriend came home from work and I could say good bye, and let her know just what was going on. It was close enough to her quitting time that I decid ed that I would meet her at work, and I would take her out to supper before I left, so I phoned her at work, and left a message saying I was on my way.
My girlfriend is gorgeous. She is about 5'-7", long blond hair, a body like a playboy model, and a great personality. She is extremely intelligent, a good cook, and I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. She has one characteristic - what some would call a flaw - which to me just makes her perfect.
She is very myopic, and has to wear very thick glasses. Her eyes are too dry, and she is unable to wear contacts. I am an ardent optic observer, and her glasses only make her more attractive to me. I also wear thick glasses, and my girlfriend and I are able to trade glasses back and forth if the need arises.
But, unknown to her, my glasses are worn over a pair of plus contacts. Oh, I am nearsighted naturally - about a -6 in each eye, but I always knew I had a fascination for ladies that wore thick glasses. While I was going to college, my roommate, who wore plus contacts had left his contacts at home one day, and I knew from the numbers on the bottles that his eye size was close enough to mine that I could wear his lenses. So for the fun of it, I put in his contacts.
One of his lenses was about a diopter stronger than the other, but no matter, was I ever blind then, I had to wear three pairs of my glasses piled one on top of the other to even see. So, I had my roommate order an extra couple of pairs of contacts for m e. I had made some rough calculations, and figured out what I needed for glasses.
I doctored up an old prescription, and a few days later, I had a lovely pair of thick glasses I could wear over the contacts. The stronger contacts were too strong for my first glasses, so I wore the weaker contacts, and was amazed at how good my vision was with the plus minus combination.
I wore these constantly, and one night at a dance I met my girlfriend. We bonded well, because of our similar glasses, and became almost inseparable. When she had to get a stronger prescription, I got stronger glasses also, by using the higher plus cont acts, so our prescriptions were still very close.
It had been a bit of a challenge since we moved in together, living with her day after day, unable to let her know that I had to wear contacts under my glasses. It was almost a relief going away for a few days, and I had begun to realize that after our w edding later this summer, I was going to have to do something.
I knew that she would never forgive me if I told her the truth. After we had supper together, it was a tearful farewell, and I was off. The drive north gave me some time to think about the eventual solution. I knew that if I had laser surgery she would want to also. And, to me, that would destroy her perfection. So, in my mind, the only answer was for me to have lens implants. But, where laser surgery was an option, lens implants in a healthy pair of eyes to make someone more nearsighted would be almost impossible. I had a lot of research to do.
I stayed that night in a small motel only a short drive from the gates of the town. Well, town was too polite a word. To me it was more like a hippie commune from the 60's. I drove to the front gate, and sitting there in front of me trying to get in was Samantha, a reporter from our rival paper. She seemed to be having no luck with the guard, so I got out of my car and walked up to the gate.
"Hi Sam" I said " Guess you should have waited to have your laser eye surgery done. " Oh stuff it you myopic ass hole" came her reply. We hadn't always been such good friends. She had called me much worse many times. But, my thick glasses opened the gates to me, and on into town I drove.
Well, it was nicer than my imagined hippie commune would have been. The houses were neat and tidy, the streets, while gravel, were well graded, and the main street had almost every type of store that anyone would need available.
I stopped near the town office and walked down the street. Everyone that I saw wore glasses. Mine, while pretty strong, were no where near as strong as most of the people I saw. As I entered the town office a pretty little girl of about 13 or 14 came o ut.
The lenses of her glasses were myodiscs, and the center circle was only about 1-1/4 inches in diameter. The lenses themselves were only about 3/4 inches thick, and I knew that her prescription had to be in excess of -30. I couldn't believe that there co uld be so many really nearsighted people.
On entering, a plain, but attractive lady wearing about -20 lenses in her glasses showed me into the inner office. At the mayors desk sat a jolly looking gentleman in his late 50's. His face beamed as he saw me, and he stood up and shook my hand.
His eyes were mere pin-holes behind the thick lenses of his glasses. He asked the receptionist if she would make us both a coffee, and then proceeded to tell me about his town. The gist of the story was that as a child he had been teased constantly abou t his thick glasses, and that he swore that he would have a place where anyone that was severely myopic could live without ridicule.
He had become an eye doctor, specializing in severe myopia, and had bought the property high in the hills to build his dream town. The first residents were patients of his. Soon the quiet life had attracted a large number of myopes, and an even larger n umber of those that weren't myopic, but wished to live there.
He refused to let anyone that was not nearsighted in to the town, but before long he realized that many of the new non myopic residents had taken to wearing plus contacts under thick glasses just to get in. So, he had modified his stand, and had allowed anyone wanting in to come in providing they always wore glasses.
Just then the receptionist returned with the coffee, and I glanced at her. I did a double take. She was now wearing glasses that looked to be stronger than anything I had ever seen in my life. The lenses were well over an inch in thickness. The front of her lens was dished in with about a 1/2" diameter circle, and so was the rear. I stared at her, and the plainness that I had seen before had disappeared. She was now quite striking, and rather beautiful to me.
The doctor noticed my fascination, and when she left the room he commented that I seemed to be hooked on strong glasses as well. With this I confessed about my own attraction, and the problem I was wrestling with regarding the forthcoming wedding.
I had reached a sympathetic ear, and the doctor told me that many of the mildly shortsighted residents had faced the same dilemma I was facing. He had then come up with the idea of doing lens implants in the eyes of anyone that wanted them.
The only rule was that they had to wear plus contacts with glasses in the same prescription that they felt that they wanted to wear permanently for at least a month before he would consider their request. That is why his receptionist had such strong glas ses. She was trying out for -55 lenses, instead of her regular -20's. I had a hard time coping with that. She already had a very substantial amount of myopia, and she wanted to increase this to the maximum.
But I then thought about how mousy she had looked at first, and how attractive she had become later, and I realized that the increase in her lens strength had done this for her. The doctor went on to tell me that almost all of the residents chose to be i ncreased to at least a -30 prescription.
It was now time for me to take a tour of the town, and as I walked the streets, I could tell that the doctor was right. Most of the people were wearing extremely high prescriptions. And no one seemed uncomfortable with me checking them out. One attract ive thickly bespectacled older lady even told me that she thought I would look better wearing stronger glasses.
When I returned to the doctors office after my tour I was determined to ask the doctor if he would do implants in my eyes for me. His reply was that he would be most pleased to do so, and I was prepped, and ready for the operation. They put me under wit h a mild anesthetic.
I woke with my head fuzzy, and I was disoriented. I reached for my glasses and put them on. Darn. Everything was really blurry. I stumbled out of bed, pulling my glasses down on my nose so I could see better over the tops. I was at home in our own be droom. This had all been a dream.
I went to the bathroom, put in my plus contacts, and put my glasses back on again. Better, but I had been so positive my dream was real, and my problem was solved.
Oh well, my real operation was scheduled for the following day. But I now wondered if I wanted even stronger glasses.