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Yeasterday I bit the bullet and bought something I gave up nearly four years ago. I was much happier for it; not nearly so stressed, freeier, relaxed even, initially.
I marched into Filene's Basement at :10 of 2 with a set 'FuckWithMeAndDie' look upon my face. Straight back and to the jewelry counter I went; where upon a short, if not terse, discussion occured with a small asian woman. From there I was shepherded over to a small glass case, where I made my decision, paid the small asian woman, and departed with one slightly large, gunmetal gray, brandname Luger, wrist watch for $21.00.
I got the Luger, because the name brought to mind Ruger, who makes handguns, which I whole-heartedly enjoy, which is what I actually wanted to be purchising at the time, but sadly, was niether in the right place for that, or had the credentials to legally own said firearm.
I hate Watches.
I used to be a watch sitter. Everything to the minute, never ever late, and if I was, I'd beat myself up over it for hours later. I believe this to be a throwback to working for McHeartStopper, where you didn't punch in until the exact minute your shift started, and you didn't punch out one minute before or after your shift ended. That kind of schedule tends to make one with such a high guilt complex a little bit paranoid.
I used to have a beautiful watch that my grandmother gave me for graduating middle school, I think. It was for graduating something. Swiss Army, stainless steel, glowed in the dark, damn near bomb proof.
But it was tormenting me. One because anything on my wrists now bothers me, and two because I didn't like living my life by the dictation of the stupid little hunk of steel on my arm. When the battery died I put it in a drawer, and it is now lost to the annals of time.
But I was happier this way. Timeless, even. I could rely on public clocks if I really needed to, besides, there's a clock right here on my laptop. Convienent, no?
But now I have a... job... and it's the same run around as used to be in the days of yore. I give not one extra minute to this establishment, and in order to keep my minutes mine, I must wear a timepiece.
At least it's brushed gunmetal. Resembles the icons I have here on Berk. I like the brushed metal look. Very clean, very industrial, very hard, very unforgiving.
And every time I wear it, I will be able to smile, at least with a gimace, and look to the day when I can take this one off, put it in a drawer, and loose it too to the annals of time.
- K.
**EDIT - Yes, I know Luger makes pistols as well, but I've never the chance to use one, whereas I have had opportunity, and have used a Ruger, which I found to be quite a pleasure.**
I marched into Filene's Basement at :10 of 2 with a set 'FuckWithMeAndDie' look upon my face. Straight back and to the jewelry counter I went; where upon a short, if not terse, discussion occured with a small asian woman. From there I was shepherded over to a small glass case, where I made my decision, paid the small asian woman, and departed with one slightly large, gunmetal gray, brandname Luger, wrist watch for $21.00.
I got the Luger, because the name brought to mind Ruger, who makes handguns, which I whole-heartedly enjoy, which is what I actually wanted to be purchising at the time, but sadly, was niether in the right place for that, or had the credentials to legally own said firearm.
I hate Watches.
I used to be a watch sitter. Everything to the minute, never ever late, and if I was, I'd beat myself up over it for hours later. I believe this to be a throwback to working for McHeartStopper, where you didn't punch in until the exact minute your shift started, and you didn't punch out one minute before or after your shift ended. That kind of schedule tends to make one with such a high guilt complex a little bit paranoid.
I used to have a beautiful watch that my grandmother gave me for graduating middle school, I think. It was for graduating something. Swiss Army, stainless steel, glowed in the dark, damn near bomb proof.
But it was tormenting me. One because anything on my wrists now bothers me, and two because I didn't like living my life by the dictation of the stupid little hunk of steel on my arm. When the battery died I put it in a drawer, and it is now lost to the annals of time.
But I was happier this way. Timeless, even. I could rely on public clocks if I really needed to, besides, there's a clock right here on my laptop. Convienent, no?
But now I have a... job... and it's the same run around as used to be in the days of yore. I give not one extra minute to this establishment, and in order to keep my minutes mine, I must wear a timepiece.
At least it's brushed gunmetal. Resembles the icons I have here on Berk. I like the brushed metal look. Very clean, very industrial, very hard, very unforgiving.
And every time I wear it, I will be able to smile, at least with a gimace, and look to the day when I can take this one off, put it in a drawer, and loose it too to the annals of time.
- K.
**EDIT - Yes, I know Luger makes pistols as well, but I've never the chance to use one, whereas I have had opportunity, and have used a Ruger, which I found to be quite a pleasure.**
