Glass eyes.
I think it was GOBUCKS who suggested glass eyes as being a topic that'd interest the brain-damaged primitive, to keep him coming here to read the number one link when one googles his real-life name.
I've of course seen people with a glass eye, but never paid much attention.
But if the brain-damaged primitive has one, it's a sure thing that's the eye he uses, to see.
Some years ago, when I was manager of a privately-owned student union on the campus of the University of Nebraska, I used to hire the intellectually-challenged to bus tables in the food court.
Their guardians thought it'd be better to have a "professional' supervise them, in one of these programs where the clients were paid according to ability (at the time, anywhere from twenty-one cents an hour up to a dollar and four cents an hour), but I said no, I could handle it myself.
They were skeptical of the whole bit; a deaf person supervising retarded people, and that for only a few minutes a day? (I said I'd treat them just as I treated all the other employees.)
No way.
Working under me, these people got about seventy-five cents over the minimum wage, and benefits.
It was a bit more than I thought it'd be--I hadn't realized how "high-maintenance" the intellectually-challenged could be--but still, I did okay. And even though I always gave the image--a false one, but a necessary one--of being a nasty grouch, they all really liked me, and thought I was the horse's banana.
There was one guy, a dwarf, about fifty years old at the time, and pretty low-IQed, who had a glass eye.
That damned glass eye caused me more problems than if these people had been unionized.
I had a rule that there was to be no sitting down on the commode while one was on the clock; one was supposed to perform one's bodily ablutions at home, on one's own time. Everybody from the fifth-year engineering students to the table-clearers followed all my other rules (there weren't many of them), but it was a pain to get them to observe this rule.
Mike, for example, went in to perch himself maybe two or three times a week, having forgotten to do that at home.
I dunno how he did it, but many times he lost his glass eye--after the commode was already filled with paper and stuff.
The first time it happened, he said he'd reach in and fish it out; he was used to it.
Uh, no, I said.
I contacted his social worker, who advised, "Well, let him fish it out."
Uh, no, I said.
I applied a patch over where an eye'd be if he had an eye, and took him home.
This happened at least half a dozen times, and then his social worker came to visit me. "Let him fish it out; these things cost social services a mint to replace."
Uh, no, I said.
