Arthur peered through his spectacles, or what remained of them. A tragic encounter between his Golden Retriever’s paw and the bedside table had left his world a Impressionist painting of blurred edges and hazy colors. He needed new glasses, and he needed them before his morning presentation.

Then came . It felt like the trendy middle ground, boasting "2-Day Delivery" badges that sang to his frantic soul. He found a pair of tortoiseshell frames that screamed “I am a professional who definitely didn't let my dog crush my glasses.”

"I can't go to the mall," he muttered, squinting at his laptop screen. "I’ll spend four hundred dollars and three hours I don't have."