A theory as to why I don't wear watches.

There's a few constants which have followed me throughout my adult life: I am generally useless, I try to make up for my deficiencies through displays of affection and finally, above all else, I am not a watch person. I will look at them in the window of a jewellery shop and appreciate how cool they look, as well as openly admiring the watches of other people from time to time. I even follow some watch focused accounts on my favourite platform YouTube.

So why do I not wear them? It’s something I’ve considered for a long time. Is it because they don’t suit me? Do you need to be 5’11 to pull off a watch? Does a watch look strange against my pale / red tinted forearm and wrist skin? What could it be.

Well I think I have found the answer. To set the scene: I am a big ‘bed time thinker’, or some might even say ‘bed time philosopher’. Last night, I was navigating down some deep seeded memories which I hadn’t thought about for a while. It was a few days after my confirmation which would’ve made me around 11 years old, and I was feeling particularly flush as I’d just done the confirmation visits with my huge extended family. We’re talking about 100 - 150 EUR. I asked my Mam to bring me to Donaghmede Shopping Centre so I could buy some toys, probably Star Wars ones, in Pride & Joy. The best toy shop in North Co. Dublin and still there to this day. My heaven as a kid. As a juxtaposition to toys, I also made the very adult decision to branch out and buy my first mature purchase: A watch. I’d seen the various male role model adults in my life wearing watches and wanted to become that kind of person. This was my time and I needed to tell it.

I got the toy business done first and told my Mam to leave me to it in the jewellers. This was an adult purchase and as a confirmed adult myself, I was fully capable of handling the situation, thank you very much. I browsed for what felt like hours. I was surprised by the prices and the realisation was dawning on me that I’d need to make a few sacrifices when it comes to the maturity of the watch. I probably couldn’t really articulate the feeling at the time, but it basically meant that I couldn’t buy a cool metal watch, or a leather strap or anything that you might see on your typical cool adult male. I had to settle for a “kid’s watch”.

Side-tracking from the selection process for a moment. It’s important to mention that there was two workers in the shop and I would say now that they were about 18. Both women. One was working in the back and the other was working on the till, doing some bits and bobs unrelated to payments as I was the only customer in the shop. Nevertheless, she was at the till. I was growing into my phase of wanting to be cool in front of girls and the watch was going to help with that. The worker at the till would no doubt be impressed by this mature 11 year old who’s alone and buying a watch with the 30 euro cash overflowing from his pocket.

So I make my choice. It’s objectively a terrible watch but I don’t know any better. It’s a brown and black rubber band, it has a bright blue backlight and is digital. "So cool!", I thought, as I brought it up to my new girlfriend doing her bits and bobs at the till. I hand it over, smirking in my mind but sheepish to her gaze, and she starts to process it for me. A few seconds of busyness followed and out of nowhere.. She LAUGHS. Laughs while she is packing up my new watch. Writing this now as an adult, still horrifically self-critical, I wonder was she laughing at me because I was ugly? Because I was a very awkward customer? Or was she just laughing at something that her colleague said to her two minutes prior? Who knows. But in that moment, my joy around the new watch was shattered. She hated it. I’d spent what felt like hours picking it out and she knew it was terrible. So terrible that she couldn’t control her laughter. I became a kid again. I was unconfirmed, barred from heaven and felt myself unravelling at the thought of this ugly, immature kid being carted around on his confirmation tour just a few days prior. What was I thinking! Me? A man? A watch?

I handed over my money and took the box from her. A box of shame. I never wore the watch and recall it idly lying atop the family microwave. A pity.