I broke my glasses yesterday.
It was honestly the most sitcom-y thing I’d ever done. Here’s what went down:
I put my glasses on my nightstand and lied in my bed to watch Netflix. When I got up, I bumped into the nightstand, which knocked over the glasses. As they were falling, I was beginning to stand up and a split second after the glasses hit the floor, I stepped on them and snapped the frames. This all transpired in maybe 1 or 2 seconds. It was super embarrassing. (I tweeted about it immediately afterwards.)
So I freaked out for a little bit because I thought I didn’t bring any spare glasses with me to California. My grandma’s husband offered to try to fix them and I let him because they were ruined so I would have to buy new ones anyway. He likes fixing things too, so he insisted. A few hours and a trip to Home Depot later, the glasses weren’t…still broken, per se. With some industrial glue and the grace of god, he was able to put the frames back together and pop the lens back in, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t look like a science experiment gone horribly wrong. The once black frames were now white with glue all over em and the lenses were scratched so bad, it’d probably be the same as not wearing glasses. It was whatever, though. I was going to get new glasses regardless. I planned to get new ones the next day and went to bed.
This morning I went to the store, called Site for Sore Eyes because of course it is. Everyone there was super nice and no one laughed at me for stepping on my glasses. I went through figuring out what my vision insurance is and an eye exam and the other usual stuff when you go get new glasses. The lady in the store asked if I still had the broken glasses and I pulled the Frankenstein frames out of my bag. She sighed and said it’s too bad the lenses were all messed up because they could’ve easily just put them in new frames.
Do you know how much cheaper it would’ve been to put the old lenses into new frames!? The lenses were fine when I clumsily stepped on them like a big doofus, but when my grandma’s husband tried to glue the frames back together, he practically destroyed the lenses in the process.
And this isn’t the first time he’s tried to fix something for me and made matters worse.
Last month, I needed to get an oil change before I drove down to LA and when I asked him where I should take my car, he offered to change the oil himself. I agreed, since it would be cheaper and easier, and he did it. Later on that night, my grandma told me that he did some other stuff to the car, which kind of pissed me off because I didn’t agree to have anything else done other than an oil change, but whatever. The next morning, as I got ready to leave for LA, my car started smoking. I was pissed, guys. I had such a fun weekend planned and now I wouldn’t be able to go because he wanted to turn my car into the Mach 5 even though all I needed was new oil? Ugh. Fortunately for me it got fixed and I still drove down to LA (nervous as hell on the way there and back), but I still made sure to get my car checked out by an actual mechanic because jesus freakin christ.
So, back to today. I’m typing out this post before I go pick up my new frames, an easy $200 out of my pocket, when it could’ve been as low as $40 had I just not said anything about the broken ones. I know his heart is in the right place when he tries to fix stuff for me, but good intentions don’t pay the bills, ya know? I don’t have the money to go re-repair the broken things he breaks even more.
Long story short, I’m a little annoyed (and a lot broke) today and I gotta keep in mind that he’s not allowed to touch any more of my stuff again. I feel a bit bad cus I’m lucky enough to be living with my grandmother for free as I continue this seemingly fruitless journey of looking for a job, but man, her husband breaking all of my stuff is a hefty price to pay.