Smoke and Mirrors

I spent way too long today, in the million-degree heat, walking across more acres of asphalt parking lots, in order to pick up my new glasses. "HAH!" said DOG.

First of all, last week I ordered the new lenses for my glasses at a place I shall call by its initials: PV. When I was in the exam room with the doctor who owns a bunch of PVs in the Atlanta area, I mentioned how horrid my current glasses had been; I was on the third pair because the little magnet that holds the clip-on sunglasses on kept falling out. I finally found a glue at Lowes that worked, but then the sunglasses went all wonky and wouldn't stay on the glasses. They have been a pain in the a** for a whole year. I wasn't being unpleasant and I didn't even think to ask for any sort of refund, but he agreed that he didn't like the glasses either, told me he would give me free frames to make up for the inconvenience and didn't charge for the exam. Sweet!

However, I wanted to keep the old frames, because I like the look of them, but wanted separate sunglasses. No problem! The sunglass frames would be free. Again, sweet!

If you've ever been to PV, you know that the pricing is based on magic, smoke and mirrors, and the click of the mouse. You never see the screen; you just listen to the clicks as the salesperson mumbles all sorts of things that you can never quite hear. As I looked at the receipt, I realized two things: I have no idea if I REALLY got free frames for the sunglasses and I have no idea if I've paid anywhere near a decent price for what I've bought. Six-hundred dollars for one complete pair and the lenses for another pair? I have no idea.

When I went in today, there was, as always, a line. So I waited and waited and waited... There is no one whose job it is to ask, "May I help you?" Everyone is at tables helping people pick out glasses, so until one of them is free, we wait. And wait. An indecisive teenage-age girl was picking out frames. Her equally indecisive younger sister was trying to help. Finally, the salesperson voiced her opinion and the teenager took her advice. Phew... Last week when I picked out my sunglasses, I asked the salesperson, hoping that she did not have an ugly or perverse sense of humor, to just tell me what to buy. She did and I did and that was that.

Well, when I finally made it to the head of the line, I got my sunglasses and they were fine. But I had to leave my regular glasses for two hours to have the lenses changed out. No problem. I went to my nearby LYS and knitted with friends who were there---a nice break.

But two hours later, back at PV, there was a problem: blurry spots right in my line of vision. So next week, I get to go back and stand in line again to get my correctly-made lenses (I hope).

Really, this is it. PV is always very good about repairing glasses and fixing problems. But it would be great if there weren't always problems, and it would be even greater if I knew if I was getting a good deal.