I get a lot of comments on my watch. It’s no surprise, since it’s large enough for a Boeing 747 to land on. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation and story behind the watch.
My mother and I picked it out together.
Maybe you haven’t seen my mother and me in action together. Lets just say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
It was a few weeks before Christmas and my mom came into town to do a shopping day with me. She kept hinting that I needed to help her pick out a gift for me, but I had no inspiration. Until we walked past the Fossil store (trying to avoid Teavana where they get you high on their monkey-picked-$100/oz tea and then sell you twice what you wanted and leave you feeling used, scared, and alone) where I saw a row of beautiful watches.
A watch! I need a watch! When we walked in I was immediately drawn to a very modest watch with a pink face and a thin pink leather strap. Cute. Pink. Dainty. DONE! Not so fast. This was the kind of watch that only gives you the numbers 3, 6, 9, and 12. For $100 I think a watch should have all 12 numbers! That’s still over $8 a number! And I told the guy so!
He pulled out a watch and said, “This is our newest top seller, it has all 12 numbers.” This sucker was the size of a dinner plate! It had room for the Gettysburg Address on the face of this baby!
Always polite and bashful; my mom and I break out in our ‘ugly laugh.’ We take a few steps apart from each other and I hold up my arm and yell, “Mom, can you read what time it is?” She responds, “Aliens in orbit can see what time it is.” And I have to ask loudly, “Was this watch designed by Mr. Magoo?”
Fortunately, the salesman helping us has realized that we are loud, but harmless and he adds, “Well, that watch will make your ass look smaller.”
It’s all over now. I am bent in half, hiking my rear into the air with my arm around my back to have this watch resting on my rump. By this point, helpless shoppers are getting in on the fun and telling me how petite and slim the rest of me is in comparison to this watch… and it’s true.
Before I can take off the watch or right myself, the young gentleman has rung up the watch. He and my mother are not letting me off the hook. It’s my Christmas Gift and there are no take-backs.
So now you know. When you wonder why I’m wearing Flavor Flav’s clock necklace around my wrist you will know. It is all a vain attempt at looking thinner. And it works.