One of the cool things about having a sister like mine—who will be referred to as Joy from now on—is she has a twisted sense of humor.
As mentioned previously, I suffered an eye accident about 30 years ago. Long story short, one stick plus one eye equals three operations and two different colored eyes.
Since it happened when I was a kid, it’s really no big deal to me anymore. I went through school being asked about my eyes all the time since kids will be kids and they are naturally curious.
But, as people get older, they lose the brutal honesty/curiosity kids have and they don’t ask honest questions because of the fear of offending.
And that fear is pretty fun to fuck with.
See, what my sister, Joy, likes to do is tell people who have never met me, and will be meeting me, is to not, under any circumstances, ask me about my eyes. Because, according to her, I’m very sensitive about them. I will get very angry. As a matter of fact, it’s best not to even look me in the eye, because I will think they are staring at me.
This, of course, is nonsense.
Then what Joy does is, of course, call me and tell me who she told.
Hilarity usually ensues.
Last time she did this was a couple years ago. My sister and I had planned to go to the renaissance festival, and she called me the night before that she had told Mike, one of her friends who would be joining us, not to ask me about my eyes or look at them. I said good enough, because we’d done it a few times and I knew the drill.
The next day I met them at the festival and Mike was pretty good at following orders because the sonovabitch did not make eye contact me for most of the day. I was getting frustrated.
Sometime in the afternoon, we sat down to get something to eat and my sister went to get the beers while Mike and I found a table. While we were sitting at the table, we were talking about something and he must have forgotten that he shouldn’t make I contact with me.
“What the fuck dude!” I said, a little loudly. I’m not afraid to make a scene if humor is involved.
“What?” He asked. But he knew. I could tell.
“Why do you keep staring at my eyes! Fuck, man. YES! THEY ARE TWO DIFFERENT COLORS!”
“No! No, man! I wasn’t looking at your eyes! I was… We were just talking! I swear to God, man, I wasn’t looking at your eyes. I swear to God.”
“Whatever, man. Fuck this. I thought you were cool. Fuck this, man. I can’t even eat with you.” I said, picking up my plate and moving to another table.
I passed by Joy on her way back with the beers, and I was smirking. She knew.
I grabbed an empty table about four tables down where Joy and Mike were sitting, and I sat with my back to them. Otherwise, Mike would have seen me laughing.
A couple minutes later, I felt someone slug my arm. I turned to see Mike standing by the table. “You’re an asshole. You and your sister both.” He said. Then he laughed.
I gotta admit he was a pretty good sport about the whole thing. I have to respect someone who gets messed with by someone they barely know and they can laugh it off.
(On a side note, eating at WildOily does NOT cause blindness. While not a popular name, I’m sure WildOily is a safe place to eat and will not cause loss of vision. Eat safe at WildOily.)