Little Lens Lost

Yeah,  it might even be here ...

I've been wearing contact lenses since I was 13 years old. Back in those days they only had hard contact lenses  - no soft lenses, disposable lenses,  solar powered lenses, gilt-edged, or anything else they have today - so hard contact lenses were what I got.  And what I still wear today. 

And hard contact lenses were great for me.  I saw better,  I looked better, and I could much better identify the bullies beating me up in seventh grade.  Life with contacts was and is good. 

Except when you drop one.

The logical thought for finding a dropped contact lens would be to look where you dropped it, but contact lenses are anything but logical. Their secondary calling, beyond providing visual amelioration, is to confound and amaze. To that end, you have as much chance of finding  a dropped contact lens anywhere near the spot where you drop it as you have of finding news on CNN.

I was taking my contacts out in the bedroom one night about a week ago when one flicked off my long (!) eyelash, ricocheted off the bureau (I could hear it) and took off for points unknown. So, I got down on my knees and began searching through the carpet where I was standing. 

No Little Lens Lost.

I got a flashlight and widened the search throughout the room. Parsing  carefully through virtually each one of the carpet fibers, I found pennies, dead bugs, and enough dust to give a can of Pledge nightmares.

No Little Lens Lost.

I patted down my clothing to see if it had alighted upon my person as sometimes does happen.  I patted down my clothing so thoroughly I became aroused. 

Still No Little Lens Lost.

I next widened the search almost throughout the entire house.  For the lens to have been in some of the areas of the house I was searching, it would have had to ricochet into a cannon about to be fired.  

Yep, you got it.

So, I called the eye doctor's office to have a new lens made.

"Hi, this is Perry Block.  I need to have a new left contact lens made." 

"I guess you dropped it, huh,  Perry?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Too bad!  It could be anywhere then."

"I know that."

"Did you look in Center City Philadelphia?"

"Don't be cute!"

"They do turn up there, just sayin'."

"Well, I was nowhere near there!"

"As if that makes a difference. But don't worry, sometimes when they slip into parallel dimensions, they actually return."

Several days later, my new contact lens was ready.  As I finished dressing on my way to go pick it up, there - right at the spot where I had dropped it the week before - was the long lost contact lens.

"Little Lens Lost!" I cried out. "I searched that spot a dozen times and you weren't there!  Where have you been?''  

"I'm sorry, Perry, I cannot tell you," answered Little Lens Lost, now Found. "But I do have a message for you."

"What's that?"

"Your random socks say hello."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dude, Where's My Car?

Cut Right! No, Cut Left! Go Long!

I have to face the fact that when it comes to losing things,  I am a Jedi Master.

I lose combs, Chapsticks,  and socks in the dryer with such regularity that many businesses work my necessary replacement purchases for such items into their budgets.  It's not unheard of for me to lose jackets and sweaters as well, although fortunately I always have beat-to-crap ones at home to wear in place of the nice new ones I've just lost.  Until I lose those too.

But notwithstanding the above, you'd think I'd be able to hang on to a 5,000 pound hunk of  sheet metal, chrome, and very hard and durable rubber.  But somehow whenever I exit a store, supermarket,  dry cleaner, or other establishment of my rather questionable choice, I invariably wind up smacking my hand against my forehead and exclaiming in grand frustration:

"Dude, where's my car?"   

Is it to the left, to the right, or straight ahead?   I have no idea!

Is it close up to the door here or in a galaxy far, far away?   I have no idea!

Is it on Level A, B, C, or D?   I have no idea!

Or is it on Level E, F, G, or H?  I have no idea!

Or is it even in this #@%! lot altogether?  I have no idea!!

Dude, where's my car?!!!  

I simply cannot remember.  It's as if my mind shuts off  along with the motor as soon as I turn off the ignition.  Seems I'm always so intent on all the stuff I have to do in any given day that I forget to pay attention to the small detail of where I've left the essential means for getting all the stuff done I've got to do.

So I begin running around in search of the lost vehicle like a crazed halfback who's been tackled one time too many. 

"I think it was  two rows to the left near the blue Honda .... NO!   CUT RIGHT! Yeah, it was four rows over to the right next to the ....  NO! LATERAL BACK!  Over there by the minivan ... NO, NOT THERE!   Okay, I'M GOING LONG!  I'M GOING LONG!!  It's gotta be in Section 34-F, not here in 36-F ......  IT'S A HAIL PERRY!!!    NO,  NOT HERE EITHER!!!"   

Although I lose cars winter, spring, summer, and fall, my most inspired misplacings tend to happen during hurricanes, hailstorms, Biblical plagues, and whenever music by ABBA is being piped into the parking lot. 

Someone needs to invent a GPS that works solely to direct you to your car, wherever you've managed to mislay it.  Such a contraption's probably already been invented, but if I can't find a massive metallic object with a broken exhaust pipe and severely dented hub caps which may be 55 feet in front of my face, how would I ever know?!

"Mr. Block," it would say, "you have once again forgotten where you left your car, am I correct?"

"That's why I bought you, Little GPS!"

"And thank you for that, Mr. Block.  Although, may I add, you are a douchebag." 

"C'mon, Dude, Where's my Car?"

"Okay, Mr. Block, first go 25 steps straight ahead to the 2011 Mercedes that you could never afford short of marrying Prince Andrew, then go 40 steps to the right."

"Done, Little GPS.  Now what?"

"Make a left, walk around the open manhole cover (you do know to do that, right?) and go 32 additional steps."

"What's going on, Little GPS?  This is the bus stop!"

"Of course."

"DUDE, WHERE'S MY CAR??!!!"

"It's in for service today.  That's why you took the bus."

 "OMG!  What a douchebag!!!"

"Yes, indeed!  Now, how about a walk to the health food store for a little Gingko Biloba?

~~~~~~~~~