Keep in contact, four eyes.

Today I’m wearing contact lenses for the first time ever. It’s a 5 day trial.

The word ‘odd’ comes to mind.

With classes there is an obscured field of vision, considering you actually have something on your face. With lenses you can see everything.

I would best describe it as ‘the world in IMAX’

Annoyingly I keep attempting to adjust the glasses I’m not wearing. So far I’ve styled it out as an itch on the bridge of my nose, but I suspect I’m not fooling anyone and people are getting suspicious.

I’ve been told I look weird without my glasses. It’s lovely to know that my natural unobscured face looks weird.

Cheers.

You raaaaang?

The guy opposite me on the train has got the biggest face in the world. It’s proper huge, like Lurch from the Addams family, or Frankenstein’s monster!
If he headbutted me I’d have bruises from my head to my knees. It would be like running into a statue on Easter Island.

I also think his glasses are two plasma screens connected with scaffolding poles. Yep, I think I can make out the words Samsung and Sony on them.

At first I thought he had regular headphones in, but they’re full size speakers wedged into a lorry’s tyre inner tubes.

His neck must be knackered.

To boldly go…

On the trains there are these huge great toilets with an automatic curved sliding door, not dissimilar to the turbolift door on the bridge of the USS Enterprise (which completely redefines “captain’s log” for me).

These doors take an age to close which is useful if you’re crowning. So imagine my amusement when i saw this…

A guy resembling a cross between Napoleon Dynamite and Wally from the ‘where’s Wally’ books was walking past the toilet just as the snail paced door was closing for some trembly-kneed commuter. On this occasion I knew exactly where this Wally was going as he was so preoccupied on some bloke’s iPad he started to veer towards the toilet. He hit the sliding door with the centre of his bespectacled face.

Full on.

Loudly.

I laughed. I mean I really LOL’d.

Thankfully I’m reading Simon Pegg’s book at the moment, so I had a scapegoat, but it did very little to mask the dribbling wreck I became having witnessed this beautifully crafted moment.

He then apologised to the door which was priceless, as he fumbled to straighten his glasses…and his tattered pride.

I don’t think I was the only person who pissed themselves.