My Watch

I like my watch. Scratch that, I love her*. And with that deep identifying sort of love mostly reserved for more animate objects (Ok, ok, "people". Sheesh.). I have owned several watches. I liked a few, but was loyal to all. But, none appreciated me (big surprise, huh?). They abandoned me on rocky river beds, in cramped rooms, and at unheard of hotels. Some just gave up on the struggle to maintain a working relationship with me, and stopped a tick short of a tock. The present one is special though. When I saw her cooling her green straps in The Granite House in Fort William, Scotland a year ago we couldn't take eyes offa each other. In fact, I would swear that her second's hand missed a few beats, while I nearly bumped my head on the ceiling. For those few fleeting moments I was as close as I will ever get to understand the oft quoted concept of 'love at first sight'.

I think I will go stare at her dial for a few minutes now.

*I identify the watch with the feminine gender to reiterate my orientation. It is necessary after a particular run-in at The Royal Opera House, but that is for another day.