A Jen Too Many

I went to pick up my new glasses today. After all, Walmart had called me to say that they were ready to be picked up. It was reasonable to assume I could go in and get them, right?

On the other hand, I also though it was reasonable to pick up something on the shelf at Walmart and try to buy it.*

So, there I am in the Walmart Vision Center, watching while the very nice white-haired little old lady who works there is pulling out the box that holds my new glasses. She looks at the contents, then says to me, "All right. I need your glasses."

And I start to take off my glasses.** Then I pause. Something isn't making sense. "Why?"

"To put your new lenses in."

"No," I tell her. "I bought - and my insurance paid for - new frames. The new lenses should be in new frames. Where are my new frames?"

Much searching ensues. No frames.

"Do you see it here, dear?" she asks me.

I look at the two walls full of glasses frames (which have been rearranged since the last time I was there, so I can't even look in the same place) and try to remember exactly what the frames looked like.

"They were $62?" I offer, feeling wildly inadequate. I look some more. There are way too many frames that look very similar to the one I picked out. None of them seem right, though - the shape of the lenses doesn't quite seem to fit the shape of any of the frames I'm looking at. "Doesn't it say anywhere which frames I ordered?"

She shows me the piece of paper with all my glasses information recorded in blue ballpoint. "It just gives a number, dear."

I memorize the number and start looking at the tags on the frames. The format of the numbers on the tags don't match the format of the number on my order record.

I falter at this point, not really know where to go from here. The Little Old Lady finally goes to the computer and looks up the number. It's bad news, though.

"We don't have those frames here, dear. They're gone. You'll have to pick out new frames."

What? I turn and look at the hundreds of frames lining the walls. I can hardly see without my glasses on. Choosing a new set of frames involves getting so close to the mirror that I can't use both eyes at once, much less see my whole face. It's not easy to get a good idea of how the new glasses will look on me.

In other words, I hate picking out new frames. Doing it all over again, after going through the whole torturous process just last week ... My heart quails. I just want my money back. Can I, though? Or has this already wound its way through the insurance system beyond recall or refund?

"Can I just get my money back?" I ask. "Or am I stuck?"

"Oh, you're not stuck, dear."

It wasn't as easy as I might have hoped, but eventually I did get a refund to my credit card. My prescription was restored to me. My insurance will be cleared by tomorrow, if not sooner.

And then I will have the wonderful opportunity of gathering my willpower together and going through the entire process all over again. Hopefully, this time will be successful.
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*It was cleaning solution for my Clorox mop. They came and took it away from me when I was at the cash register and told me they weren't allowed to sell it. When I asked why, they said something about it being recalled.

Really? Because there were no recalls issued that I could find. And the other Walmart in town is still selling it, no problem.

I probably don't want to know, do I?

**I learned to be obedient when I was young. I've been spending the rest of my life unlearning it. Just say no, Jennifer!