|
JAYNE WITH A WHY |
|
|
. : Recent Posts : .
KEEP YOURSELVES BUSY........................... . : Archives : .
January 2006 . : On My Perch at Night, I'm Reading A Book On My Kindle: .
|
. : motley assortment of blogs from other parts of the multiverse : .
. : MY FAMILY MOTTO: FUCK 'EM ALL EXCEPT US: .
. : Credits : .
Template By Caz . : email: spadgesmum at gmail dot com .
|
|||||
Tuesday, July 15, 2008SO, THERE I WAS, THINKING......................... Yesterday, I finally kicked my arse into gear & hauled myself off to the optician. For whatever reason, the frames on my specs seem to take on a mind of their own & they change their fitting without so much of a blink from my baby blue eyes. In the past, I've managed to re-adjust them without much effort, but the last time these frames took on a life of their own, I was tempted to stamp on the bastard things to put both them & me out of our collective misery. No matter how I adjusted them - from slightly one way to radical another way, the fucking things refused point blank to 'adjust' to their original setting. As a result, I've had blinding headaches & aching eyes for the past fortnight, as well as two pothole sized indentations on the bridge of my nose. So I thought bollocks, enough is enough - I couldn't take the discomfort any longer. I ventured out into the Big Sweaty Sandbox & managed to arrive at Marina Mall, without so much as a swear word at another driver. (*Make a mental note, cos that kinda thing doesn't happen very often*) It was only about 43C & the moment I parked up & stepped out of the car, my specs steamed up. It was a tad humid as well y'see. (Heat, sand, humidity - oh wot fun living in the Sandbox can be! Coupled with drivers who learnt to operate their killing machines by means of a Lego set & you're well away!) Sorry, I digress.............. I made my way down to the optician, sussed out a few frames & finally selected a pair. At this point, for any optically involved person who might be reading - in South Africa, if you have really bad eyesight, you are offered a pair of 'demo' contact lenses to wear, whilst you select a pair of frames. Here in the Sandbox, one has to look like a total muppet by putting a pair of clear lense glasses on top of/over ones own glasses, to get an idea as to whether the frames may suit you or not. So in other words, I looked like a right dipstick yesterday, whilst wearing 2 paris of glasses in an attempt to see if the frames suited me. My eyesight is really bad & I can't 'see' what new glasses would look like, so I just chose a pair that vaguely looked like they'd be OK. Shit or bust as they say. An assistant was hovering in the background all the time I was trying on various frames, so having made my choice, I asked him if it was possible to have the lenses from the glasses I was wearing, fitted into the new frames I'd selected? He took them over to the counter, turned 'em every which way he could, measured them, looked at them, looked at me, made 2 little dots on the lenses & declared that yes, the new frames could accommodate my current lenses. I was informed it would take approximately an hour & yes, it could be done right away. Yay gads, what service! I was escorted to a small waiting area, where I plonked myself down on a chair. I couldn't read anything, cos I didn't have glasses. Without them, I can see shapes (in relation to the size of a small elephant) & colours, but not much else. I was effectively blind for a while................................ So, I got to thinking...........................................  Last month, when I went to get blonde hi-lites done at my favourite hairdressing salon (good plug for 'Changes' in the Liwa Centre), 2 stick-insect looking abaya-clad females entered, with a brat & 2 sullen maids in tow. My initial reaction was why they'd chosen to grace this particular salon with their arrogance? They both sported the 'Peacock Strut', which is s'posed to lead innocent wenches - such as myself - to the assumption that they are important. *Thinks to self at the time: you can strut all yer want darlin, you still look like a skank to me'* ......................ahem..........coff........coff. It turned out that above-mentioned abaya-clad stick insects had a 'spray tan' appointment booked & were they miffed when they were informed that they couldn't go in together! The brat started getting impatient & noisy & one of the maids-in-tow sprung into action to keep the little git occupied. *thinks to self - wanna learn how to fly? I can hang you outa the window..........*.......................*thinks again; bugger, it's only on the 1st floor* Moments later, one of the walking adverts for anorexia was ushered in to have her scrawny frame sprayed with fake tan. I was fascinated with this, cos 9 times out of 10, anyone with a hint of colour - as in original, born in that skin colour - goes out of their way to become 'lighter'. Check the sales of beastly skin bleachers like 'Fair & Lovely' - they're phenominal here! Naturally, for fair skinned folk, such as myself, I go the opposite way & enjoy having a bit of a suntan. Roast me on medium/high for an hour on some deserted spot & I'm well away for the next 6mths. Needless to say, it was a curious thing to witness this female wanting to be a shade or 2 darker, as opposed to lighter. Several minutes went by & then a slightly darker shade of female emerged, all giggles & fanning motions with her billowing sleeves & clack clack heels. (strut strut, clack fuckin clack................I coulda decked the bitch, just for being so bloody irritating!) The 2nd female then scuttled off for her treatment. The first thing strutted around, abaya flowing in all directions, in attempt to get noticed I assume. She stopped suddenly. Her eyes focussed on a hairdryer............................. She plonked herself down, opened her abaya, hoisted up her skirt, opened her legs, picked up the hairdryer, pointed it at her crotch & asked my hairstylist: "Can I use this to dry myself?" (Picture if you will, the open mouthed shock/horror/what-the-hell expressions on staff & customers alike!) She was informed in a short, terse manner, that no, she could not use it in the salon. If she wished to 'dry' herself in private, she could use a spare room. This beak-nosed pikey-esque skank was actually rather horrified that her every whim wasn't being granted! So..............................whilst I was sat waiting for my new glasses, I just got to thinking.............................it takes all sorts to make the world go around hey?  
|
