There are moments in life where a single, seemingly insignificant decision can alter the course of an entire day - perhaps even one's entire existence.
For most people, these moments involve missed flights, forgotten ANNIVERSARIES, OR REPLYING "YOU TOO" when a waiter tells you to enjoy your meal. For me, it was something much worse. It was wearing the wrong watch.
Let me be clear. I own 4 Gen Rolex's, and now 3 Reps. I started my watch journey buying Gen's and later/recently got into the Rep world. One such Gen watch is a stunning green dial, factory diamonds on the roman numerals at the 6 and 9, and a beautiful diamond set bezel, all on a two-tone Jubilee bracelet. The kind of piece that makes people take a second look. It's not just a watch, it's a statement. A flex, but an elegant one.
I also own a fake Datejust. And not a good fake either. The dial is a slightly off shade of green, the diamonds are about as real as my commitments to staying under two drinks at social events, and the Jubilee bracelet rattles like loose change in a washing machine. A man should never mix these up. And yet, there I was - on the wrong side of the world, realizing that I had done exactly that.
I had flown to a foreign country, one of those places where luxury goods aren't just admired but worshiped. A place where a Rolex isn't a watch, it's an identity. It was supposed to be a quick trip. Business, a little leisure, maybe a few drinks in a place where the bartenders knew my name by the second round.
The moment I landed I knew something felt off. Not because the heat, not because of the unfamiliar street signs, but because the watch felt too light! I glanced down and felt a sinking horror. Wrong shade of green. The diamond bezel looked... slightly too aggressive. The Jubilee bracelet? A little too flimsy. I had done the unthinkable. I had grabbed the fake... At that moment, I had two choices: 1) play it cool OR 2) Immediately Panic. I chose an advanced third option: hyperventilate while pretending to play it cool.
But what could I do? I had meetings, reservations, people expecting me to show up looking like a man of taste and refinement. The only option was to commit. And that was how I found myself, a man who owns multiple Gen pieces, being mistaken for something for more dangerous.
The night started normally enough. Cocktails at the hotel bar, making small talk with the kind of people who act like they don't care about money while subtly implying they have way too much of it.
Then the first sign of trouble.
A sharply dressed man I had never met before (one of those guys who radiates " I know a guy who knows a guy") walked up to me and without hesitation, said: "You're with them right?"
My Brain froze... With WHO? I blinked. "Uh... yeah?"
"Good he nodded approvingly. "I figured, with that watch."
I was now officially associated with... something. And whatever that something was, it onvolved a fake Rolex as a badge of recognition. I should have corrected him. I should have said "Oh no, I just wore the wrong watch today." But you can't just blurt that out to a man who clearly knows things.
Instead, I nodded.
What followed was an increasingly tense series of events that can only be described as the most stressful dinner of my life. I was ushered into a private dining room. Very private. Dim lighting, whispered conversations, the kind of place where you don't ask for the menu, they tell you what you're eating.
Every person at the table had a presence. The kind of presence that makes you assume they either own a fleet of exotic cars or have at least one alias. And all of them??? STARING at my wrist.
It was then that I realized that my fake Rolex wasn't a credential. I was in a situation where my watch wasn't just an accessory, it was a symbol.
I spent the entire meal on edge. unsure whether I was about to be recruited into a high stakes business venture, an international money-laundering operation, or simply murdered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The conversation danced around vague references to "the deal", "the package", and at one point. "The guy in Monaco didn't play ball."!!!
I laughed nerviously at every joke, nodded at every cryptic statement, and ate my meal in silence while desperately trying to think of an exit strategy. And then, just when I thought I was in the clear, the sharply dressed man leaned over towards me and said something that still haunts me to this day:
"You know, I have the exact same watch, but mine is real."
... A test? A challenge? This was chess not checkers. I stared at him. He stared back. The room fell silent. And in that moment, I did the only thing I could do:
I tapped the dial with my finger, and said: "Does it really matter?"
The table erupted in laughter!
Crisis averted!
I don't remember how the night ended, only that I left as quickly as humanly possible. I went straight back to the hotel room, locked the door, and stared at my betrayal of a watch for a good hour.
The next morning, I flew home without incident.
Moral of the story if there is one: Never, under any circumstance, let your watch put you in a situation where you are unsure whether you are at a business dinner or a criminal initiation.
Happy Tuesday all! (btw I wore my Gen from this story as well as my Rep Starbucks on St Patty Day yesterday!)
For most people, these moments involve missed flights, forgotten ANNIVERSARIES, OR REPLYING "YOU TOO" when a waiter tells you to enjoy your meal. For me, it was something much worse. It was wearing the wrong watch.
Let me be clear. I own 4 Gen Rolex's, and now 3 Reps. I started my watch journey buying Gen's and later/recently got into the Rep world. One such Gen watch is a stunning green dial, factory diamonds on the roman numerals at the 6 and 9, and a beautiful diamond set bezel, all on a two-tone Jubilee bracelet. The kind of piece that makes people take a second look. It's not just a watch, it's a statement. A flex, but an elegant one.
I also own a fake Datejust. And not a good fake either. The dial is a slightly off shade of green, the diamonds are about as real as my commitments to staying under two drinks at social events, and the Jubilee bracelet rattles like loose change in a washing machine. A man should never mix these up. And yet, there I was - on the wrong side of the world, realizing that I had done exactly that.
I had flown to a foreign country, one of those places where luxury goods aren't just admired but worshiped. A place where a Rolex isn't a watch, it's an identity. It was supposed to be a quick trip. Business, a little leisure, maybe a few drinks in a place where the bartenders knew my name by the second round.
The moment I landed I knew something felt off. Not because the heat, not because of the unfamiliar street signs, but because the watch felt too light! I glanced down and felt a sinking horror. Wrong shade of green. The diamond bezel looked... slightly too aggressive. The Jubilee bracelet? A little too flimsy. I had done the unthinkable. I had grabbed the fake... At that moment, I had two choices: 1) play it cool OR 2) Immediately Panic. I chose an advanced third option: hyperventilate while pretending to play it cool.
But what could I do? I had meetings, reservations, people expecting me to show up looking like a man of taste and refinement. The only option was to commit. And that was how I found myself, a man who owns multiple Gen pieces, being mistaken for something for more dangerous.
The night started normally enough. Cocktails at the hotel bar, making small talk with the kind of people who act like they don't care about money while subtly implying they have way too much of it.
Then the first sign of trouble.
A sharply dressed man I had never met before (one of those guys who radiates " I know a guy who knows a guy") walked up to me and without hesitation, said: "You're with them right?"
My Brain froze... With WHO? I blinked. "Uh... yeah?"
"Good he nodded approvingly. "I figured, with that watch."
I was now officially associated with... something. And whatever that something was, it onvolved a fake Rolex as a badge of recognition. I should have corrected him. I should have said "Oh no, I just wore the wrong watch today." But you can't just blurt that out to a man who clearly knows things.
Instead, I nodded.
What followed was an increasingly tense series of events that can only be described as the most stressful dinner of my life. I was ushered into a private dining room. Very private. Dim lighting, whispered conversations, the kind of place where you don't ask for the menu, they tell you what you're eating.
Every person at the table had a presence. The kind of presence that makes you assume they either own a fleet of exotic cars or have at least one alias. And all of them??? STARING at my wrist.
It was then that I realized that my fake Rolex wasn't a credential. I was in a situation where my watch wasn't just an accessory, it was a symbol.
I spent the entire meal on edge. unsure whether I was about to be recruited into a high stakes business venture, an international money-laundering operation, or simply murdered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The conversation danced around vague references to "the deal", "the package", and at one point. "The guy in Monaco didn't play ball."!!!
I laughed nerviously at every joke, nodded at every cryptic statement, and ate my meal in silence while desperately trying to think of an exit strategy. And then, just when I thought I was in the clear, the sharply dressed man leaned over towards me and said something that still haunts me to this day:
"You know, I have the exact same watch, but mine is real."
... A test? A challenge? This was chess not checkers. I stared at him. He stared back. The room fell silent. And in that moment, I did the only thing I could do:
I tapped the dial with my finger, and said: "Does it really matter?"
The table erupted in laughter!
Crisis averted!
I don't remember how the night ended, only that I left as quickly as humanly possible. I went straight back to the hotel room, locked the door, and stared at my betrayal of a watch for a good hour.
The next morning, I flew home without incident.
Moral of the story if there is one: Never, under any circumstance, let your watch put you in a situation where you are unsure whether you are at a business dinner or a criminal initiation.
Happy Tuesday all! (btw I wore my Gen from this story as well as my Rep Starbucks on St Patty Day yesterday!)
