I Can't See Shit

The great Stevie Wonder once said, "I can't see shit." Along with a killer wardrobe, Stevie and I have this in common. My eyesight is truly terrible. With the innovative wizardry of today's modern medicine, I have made it a life goal to one day have lasers blast my corneas to 20/20 vision. No longer will I hear noises in the dead of night and scramble first for my glasses and then for my sawed off shotgun loaded with rock salt, you know, for ghosts and shit. Gone will be the days when I flee the vacuum cleaner because I've mistaken it for a short, menacing person. After my lasik procedure, I will be one step closer to becoming a professional badass with impressive side-abs.

My eyes started to fail me at the age of 8. I refused to wear glasses until my classmates started to look like Henry Moore sculptures wiggling on the playground. Not just the fat kids either. Everyone became a blob. I needed glasses, and for whatever sick reason, my parents had the optometrist put a pair of round, Steve Urkel-style specs on my face. Those bastards. When I turned 11 and my glasses were leading me to social suicide and destroying all chances of me ever having Chad's babies, I discovered the magic of contact lenses. From then on, there was no stopping my magnificence and power... except when I took them out to shower and sleep.

I've grown accustomed to my weak sense of sight. I believe that it has heightened my other senses. My ears are widely acute to the sounds that go bump in the night, which is why I have yet to be attacked by a supernatural entity. Iron, salt, and hex bags help too. My olfactory senses are just as good, if not better, than my hearing. What's that smell in the air? Sulphur? A demonic presence? No, it's fajitas in someone's kitchen, and my super sense of smell can lead you straight to the fiesta. I have also excelled in the art of creeping due to my heightened spacial awareness. I am like a nightcrawler, feeling and sniffing my way through the darkness... and your home. Yes, you hear those mysterious noises at night before you drift off to sleep. Is it the things that go bump in night? No, it's me! Feeling and sniffing my way through your refrigerator and your laundry.

Try as you might with blasting me with rock salt and restraining orders, I only have two, true weaknesses: showering and sleeping. They are the only times I am vulnerable. I wake up each morning seeing fuzzy, familiar shapes in my room. Any new pieces of furniture or articles of clothing are viewed as possible threats that must be dealt with swiftly and lethally. This is why I have so many battle scars on my legs; the morning is far too early in the day for roundhouse kicks. Every time I shower, it is an open opportunity for an attack. I shower like every shower could be my last. Anyone can attack me, and I won't see that shit coming. If you assault me while I am showering, I guarantee you will be met with fists swinging wildly in your general direction. You know that scene in Eastern Promises? The one where Viggo Mortensen is fighting gloriously naked like a badass in the bathhouse? It will be nothing like that. I will think that I am Viggo destroying you in an awe-inspiring display of raw, masculine power when in fact, I am really having a scuffle with the shower curtain.

All that will change once I undergo my Lasik procedure. One day, I will no longer depend on glasses or contacts. I will wake up every morning ready to destroy evil. I will no longer approach cats only to find that they are actually piles of potatoes. I will never have to use the line, "You wouldn't hit somebody with glasses, would you?" to get out of sticky situations. Most of all, I will shower with confidence.