The glances — 2012/03/05

I enter the bar. Immediately, my glasses are covered with a thick fog, which forces me to take them off. In spite of my myopia, I feel everyone's eyes falling on me. We are in the Village, the clientele is self-oriented. As a result, whoever enters becomes the object of an insistent, detailed examination. They would take out boxes to give me a score that I wouldn't be surprised.