As well as getting my arse to the gym a few other things needed changing. My clothes, for example, were hanging off me. So I went and bought some new ones. I also decided to go for a bit of a change and get contact lenses, so I made an appointment at a major high street optician.

Now; I’ve had contacts before but the lady on the phone told me that they had a free trial going on, which was okay with me as who’s going to turn something free down? I had a few days off, which coincided with payday, so I had Big Plans for what I wanted to get done. On day #1 I bought a couple of pairs of jeans, some t shirts and clothes for the gym. I paid my bills and ordered the protein powder that I hope will help me get fit and then I had a fun and funky evening sledging with my kids.

On day #2 the plan was to get my eyes done (an eye test was also due), sort out the contact lenses, go and see my tattoist mate Ryan at his shop (Banana Juice Tattoo) and then head to the gym for a relaxing hour of sweating and causing physical pain to myself. I left my house that morning feeling pretty good about myself. I had on my new trainers, new trackies, a new hoodie (which was really comfortable and I regretted never having bought one before) and an awesome Pac Man t shirt. Fair enough; I was trying for a new ‘style’ but, seriously, there’s never going to be anything cooler than a Geek t shirt, is there?

I arrived in town and went for a wander as I had a little time to spare. I ended up buying Lego Batman 2 and Resident Evil 5, one of which was for the kids and the other was for me (I’ll let you work out which was which for yourself), and bumped into Gym Yoda who was quite stunned that I, in his words, looked “almost human” which I took to be a compliment.

There was slightly less success at the opticians…

The eye test itself went pretty well. The scanned my eyeball and showed me the picture, which is always pretty cool. Who doesn’t love seeing what the inside of their eye looks like? I went through the whole “which hot air balloon is clearer?” test, and the traditional letters on the wall, and then came the contact lens fitting part.

The woman that was instructing me on correct lens etiquette (you’re not allowed to wear them on airplanes, for example) was REALLY offhand with me. Her whole attitude stank. She talked to me like I was educationally challenged and had that sneery, looking down her nose thing going on that I hadn’t seen in a while

I was a roaring success at getting the contacts in an out. Seriously, with a little training I reckon I could be a medal winner at that. Especially taking them out. I am fucking AWESOME at that.

So we do the whole shebang – she tells me how to clean them, make sure they’re not inside out when I put them in, that sort of thing, and makes a follow up appointment for the end of the free trial. I’d been my usual nice self throughout the whole experience, despite her being a bit of a cow to me. Being polite, smiley and cracking a few jokes usually makes people like that at least crack a smile. I’ve had miserable customers where making them smile or laugh has become my mission, but this woman just wasn’t cracking. In the end I figured that I had lost the battle.

“Where do I pay?” I asked.

“It’s a free trial, that means you don’t have to pay,” she explained slowly so that I didn’t have to deal with too many words flying into my ears at the same time.

“Yes,” I said. “I know, but I had an eye test as well. I’ve got to pay for that.”

At this point she sneered, looked me up and down and said: “People on benefits don’t have to pay.”

For the whole of the experience she had been a bitch to me because I was wearing trackies and a hoodie.

“Um… I’ve got a job,” I said. “I’m going to the gym.” At which point she immediately brightened up, smiled and said:

“Oh, right! Well in that case if you want to follow me…” Her whole body language changed. Her face relaxed and her shoulders dropped slightly, all because she realised that she wasn’t talking to a doley.

I really couldn’t believe it and was in a bit of a state of shock. It’s not like I was wearing a sovereign ring or jewelery bought exclusively from Argos. I didn’t even have a baseball cap on! And when she called me from the waiting room I was reading my Kindle! Everyone knows that Scallies can’t read!

I suppose I should have complained to someone about the fact that she’d been like that but, really, the only difference between her and me is that I wait until the customer has left the building before I start slagging them off.

To make matters worse I never even made it to the gym that day.

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