I’d like to blame lockdown for my failing eyesight. But my friends keep mentioning my age
Some time over the past 18 months, I went from having perfect vision – the kind of vision that means, “Here, let me have a look” is your catchphrase, and that makes you mock your friends for the font size on their mobiles – to being unable to even read a menu. You have no idea how much I wanted to add a sweary prefix before “menu”.
I always thought people were attention-seeking when they went through that performance of getting their glasses out at the table. Come on, it’s going to be garlic bread, soup and chicken liver pate. Surely you could have guessed that? I didn’t realise how it would feel when the text was swimming about indistinguishably or how rare it is these days that the first sentence is “garlic bread”. Now I realise it’s just as likely to be bread with a medjool date whipped butter, or garlic bread with a cheesy crust. In my pride, I have spent ages ordering things that weren’t there.
