It all started with the humidity. My face was covered in a perpetual layer of my own slime and the Coppertone sweatproof sunblock I've been slathering on each morning. The lenses on my current glasses have reached such thickness and concavity that my unkempt eyebrows and eyelashes brush against them, smearing the face gunk in hair-shaped brush marks all over my sight line.
Last night, after my bike riding lesson up a series of hills in Highland Park, I could barely see through the smudges. I did the thing old, disgusting men do. I did the thing I have watched, horrified, my teenaged students do. I did what a woman who, with nothing but a sweat-soaked shirt and no other options, must.
I stuck my dirty glasses in my mouth and I licked my lenses clean so I could see to ride home.