Man bait vision

Refusing to make a spectacle of myself


My friend was wearing a pair of black Ray-Bans, her hair covered with a silk scarf that was tied under her chin like a spy.

“Can you see anything?” I asked as I led her from the waiting room of the LASIK clinic.

“It feels like my eyes are dilated.”

LASIK surgery looks better and better the older I get. Thanks to astigmatism, all my glasses are special ordered and expensive unless I want to look like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. Even with those modifications, people still get a head rush if they look sideways through my lenses.

I went back to glasses full-time in 2000 after I tore a $600 contact lens that was only a couple of months old. My glasses weren’t meant for public consumption at the time, making bartending in The Castro challenging. I wouldn’t have earned the tips to buy a nicer pair were it not for my creatine tits.

The only contacts I wear now are what I call my “vanity lenses”— disposables that let me see without bumping into things. I told my optometrist I wanted them for sports, but they’re really to get laid. I learned that lesson after I left my glasses in my room at a bathhouse and a friend insisted on pushing my blind ass into people and rooms.

I started wearing contacts to yoga after I got fed up with my glasses sliding down my face. Maybe it was the small boost of confidence, or that I held my head higher without the crushing weight of my glasses, but I was cruised on that walk to class more than in all of my classes combined.

It took me an hour to convince myself this hot guy was seriously checking me out. Only problem was, I can see so little with my contacts I was practically standing on top of him before I knew if I was interested or not. He wasn’t by then.

The arm broke off my glasses a couple of days later, relegating me to my spare pair, otherwise known as my Magoos. You could shoot an IMAX movie with these things.

I love them because it’s impossible for me to look over the top of the frame. They’re great for parties and finding my glasses, but you need to be rich to pull these suckers off 24/7, and I ain’t. They’re not exactly what you would call man bait.

“I want you to witness this,” my friend said, then pulled out her glasses and threw them onto a heaping pile of spectacles.

 

“I’m going to wake up tomorrow and not put on my glasses. I can’t wait.”

Me too, sister. Me too.

Tony Correia is a Vancouver-based writer who has been contributing to Xtra since 2004. He is the author of the books, Foodsluts at Doll & Penny's CafeSame LoveTrue to You, and Prom Kings.

Read More About:
Culture, Vancouver

Keep Reading

A still image of Anne, played by Amybeth McNulty, in braids and a coat, looking at another child in Anne with an E.

Why the adaptation ‘Anne with an E’ speaks to queers and misfits of all kinds

The modern interpretation of Anne of Green Gables reflected queer and gender-diverse people’s lives back at them 
Karla Sofía Gascón as Emilia Perez in Emilia Perez. Gascón wears black with colourful embroidery, has long hair, and a brown purse and delicate chain.

Trans cartel musical ‘Emilia Pérez’ takes maximalist aesthetic to the extreme

REVIEW: The film’s existence raises intriguing questions about appropriate subjects for the playful machinations of French auteurs
Dorothy Allison sits behind a microphone. She has long, light-coloured hair and wears glasses and a patterned button-up shirt.

5 things to know about Dorothy Allison

The lesbian feminist writer passed on Nov. 6

‘Solemates’ is a barefoot stroll through the history of our fetish for feet

Queer historian Adam Zmith’s newest book allows us to dip our toes into the past of a common, yet stigmatized, kink