I approached the door. My heart was pumping. My palms were sweating.
I noticed that the office was closed on Wednesdays.
Talk about impotent rage. I was forced to go back home to do laundry and obsess over my plan of attack.
This morning I changed my strategy. I decided to bring my children with me so that if things went bad I could employ the "Bobby Goren" method of handling people. When Bobby is interviewing suspects he likes to wander around their space and pick up breakable things. Lily is particularly well suited to this sort of tactic.
When we arrived at the office, it started off with smiles. Clearly, the receptionist did not recognize me. I produced the broken glasses and explained that they had fallen apart after only four months of use.
"Well", she began, "They didn't just break. Something must have happened to them."
It is when I began speaking that I saw the flash of recognition, the awareness that dear god, that woman is back!
"My daughter," I said, "is a book worm. She plays no sports. She does not roughhouse. The glasses were inferior and broke."
She visibly recoiled and made noises about "checking the records."
That's right old woman, you check those records. New glasses will be mine!
"Lily!" I said, "Would you like to try on all of these glasses?"
"Good news!" she nervously trilled, "They are covered by a warranty!"
She then proceeded to search for a set of duplicate frames and locate the manufacturer in her roladex
When that failed she disappeared into the back office to confer with the doctor.
While she was out of the room I took a peek at the records.
Lots of post it notes- one in red said, "Same mess as above!"
Finally she returned. They could not find another pair of frames. They would have to call me with further information later.
In the meantime, I have secured the prescription and will be ordering some cute 9.95 glasses from Zenni.
The moral of the story: Don't mess with a shiny red mama.