An Open Letter to My Contact Lens Case

stupid contact lense case
Originally uploaded by puma1.

An Open Letter to my contact lens case,
How are you? Yeah, I know I just saw you an hour ago. Fine, I'll just get right to it. We need to talk. Now. I know you're probably really tired from being busy all night doing your job of holding my contacts, but this can't wait any longer.
Dude....what is going on? You just haven't been yourself recently. Look, I don't blame you at all for my jacked up right eye, I don't know what that is. But it's all the other stuff. Your left cap closing all funny, the leakage of lens solution all over the cabinet, the canoodling with my new Fusion razor (just remember, it's not the number of blades, it's how you use them).
But your latest offense was the worst. Where were you on Sunday night? Did you have plans? Could you have told me? I was travelling, I thought I could count on you. I guess I was just being naive.
I thought it was me at first, that I forgot you. I know I just got that snazzy new bathroom kit and was way too excited. But I got it for all of us...especially you. I was worried...did you fall in one of the dozen awesome compartments somewhere under the band aids from 1992 and the dusty condom? Did you perhaps fall out of the mesh lined, velcro secured extension pouch? I looked frantically, but couldn't find you...
But you weren't even there. You didn't even bother to show up....to your JOB. Everybody else was there. Nobody else thought that Sunday was their day off. Even Deoderant showed up, even though we've had problems on past occasions [...and between you and me, I think he has a drinking problem]. But you...you are the lynch-pin. There I was, with My Glasses perched on my head dumbfounded ...y'know, he was trying to make excuses for you...he's your closest friend but he knew he was useless without you. And I think it hurt My Contacts the most. You owe them the apology, not me.
So what was I left to do? I struggled to figure it out. I could've punished everyone by leaving My Contacts in...but nobody deserves to be overworked to pick up the slack for others. So, look at the photo. Embarassing. I Macgyver'd two drinking cones and a paper towel to do your job. Drinking cones, fucko. It makes me shudder to think about it now. The horror.
And do wanna know the worst part? Yeah, it was finding you all snuggled up in my comforter when I got home. Salt. in. the. wound. asshat.
You're fired. And I'm gonna replace you with that free floozy I purloined from the optometrist; and I'm always gonna have two with me. I can't trust your kind anymore without backup. You've ruined it for everyone. Maybe I'll convert you to a salt and pepper shaker. That'll learn ya.
I say Good Day to you, Sir.