Would you, could you on a boat?
I would not, could not, on a boat.
Would you, could you, on the street?
I would not, could not, on the street.
I would not wear them here or there,
I would not wear them anywhere.
Okay. So I played with them. It, actually. Glass. Takes the pretentious singular. I wore it to the glasses (normal plural) store, to see if they could make me a prescription lens, in the shape of the snap-on sunglass attachment. No dice, but the girl behind the counter got to try it out. When I left the store, a woman from my neighborhood spotted me sporting Glass and wanted to chat. She knew a lot about the thing. When we said goodbye, I realized I hadn’t offered her a test drive, and felt bad. A few people stared at me as I walked the two blocks home. I was officially a nerd.
The next weekend, on a jaunt to friends in the country, I wore it out to the mall. (They have stars and fireflies and green fields, all of which I long for, but on the downside, country life and shopping malls seem to go hand-in-hand.) I took a video and some stills of my boyfriend hitting the automated check-out at Home Depot. Life forms need not apply. Are we