I had had a pair of spare glasses with me in bag for months, last year, or maybe a year before. But after spending so many uneventful days on so many trips, the use for the spare ones faded. They are now left at home.
With my craftsmanship, or the lack of it, I knew I could not put back the separated pieces back again. I was keenly aware of my limitations, set by my willingness to repair anything. Clearly, I had to look elsewhere for a fix.
But to look without my glasses? I quickly found myself in a very strange world. Everything all of sudden lost its resolution. And everything I could manage to see--or try to see--was of very low definition, and blurry like the effect of Gaussian Blur from Photoshop. I had to sniff the computer monitor, as if only through the coordination of my noise and eyes could I see again. Several times, forgetting the cause of my predicament and attempting to get out of it, I tried to grab my glasses in order to see again, only to be reminded that there was nothing there to help me. I fumbled into a few random drawers, hoping to find another extra pair that may have been left there, forgotten. I only came across a Lenscrafter case, into which I placed my now disabled glasses.
I had very few options: taking a trip back home to retrieve my spare glasses--but that would take hours at minimum; visiting a local store to see if they could be repaired--there was no likelihood of success; getting a new pair--that would require an eye exam and at least a week of waiting period for the new pair to arrive; and replacing the frame--but there is a very low possibility finding a frame in which would my glass pieces would fix, as my past experience had clearly informed me.
After a very long, dark night, I walked into the chilly Spring morning. Even in low resolution the sky was beautiful. Time Square, like in a typical day, was filled with crowds even if it was still morning. To me the crowds appeared to be an endless parade of expressionless, moving bodies in assortment of human garments. But I knew my way around and where I was going.
Soon I found myself on 6th Avenue, between 45th and 46th Streets. But where is the Lenscrafters? I knew it could be just across the street, right before my eyes, but I could not see the sign. I took my iPhone and looked at the street address again. I could make out the big street numbers, 1166, on the east side of the avenue. This must be it.
A lady warmly greeted me; her look and expression made no difference to me today. She had me seated and it was not long before another lady came. Her body shape made no difference to me either. Whether I was speaking with human or a robot would have made no difference to me because I could not see the difference anyway and I just wanted to have my vision restored.
It took only seconds for me to learn that the frame was beyond repair and I would need a new pair of glasses. "What about a new frame that could use my current lens?" I asked out of desperation.
"That would be impossible unless ... we have the exact frame as yours." Quickly came back the voice. "Let me take your frame and see if we have your model number here." The lady offered.
She came back with a new frame, announcing "we have your frame!" I could not believe it! Better still, the frame actually cost a few hundred dollars less than the one I had purchased in my home state a couple of years ago. As a final nice touch: I received a matching case and a matching cloth.
Within minutes, the Lenscrafters lady before me became so gorgeous and attractive, as if just fully developed out of a color film. But I was anxious to get back to the street, to once again see this forever amazing world in vivid, fine resolution.
There was an old movie named "Miracle on 34th Street." And I happily declare my experience today a "miracle" on 45th Street.
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| Miracle on 45th Street |
