Why does everything have to be so difficult?

About a week and a half ago, my watch turned on me.

I bought my watch about 5 or 6 years ago. We used to walk through Dillard's to go to the MacArthur Center parking garage, and the men's watches were right there on the aisle. BK was with me when I picked out the heavy looking watch with the red face. This was when I had the red-and-black Nike shoes I bought at Legends (a local store catering more to the urban contemporary crowd than old white guys like me), and I like red (me and Sammy Hagar).

I love that watch, and I have gotten many compliments on it over the last few years. Strangely, on the red face of it is the word "Blue," which is the name of the product line. Or something like that. The first Fossil watch I ever picked up said in big type on the face, "1954," which is the year I was born. I have since contacted them as to why they feature this year in their products, and they replied that it simply evokes the proper retro atmosphere, with no particular significance. But I digress.

On that fateful day not long ago, the first day I worked at my new freelance job, my wrist broke out in an allergic reaction. Which had to be caused only by my beloved watch. LWC suggested that some kind of protective coating was finally eaten away by my body acids (yuck) and now some bare metal was exposed.

I spent a week trying to use my phone as my watch, but that's like having a pocket watch, which is horribly inconvenient. So the hunt began. I figured we couldn't afford another Fossil watch, so I started at Wal-Mart. Found a watch I thought I like, but it had a grayish green around the face. I convinced myself it was gray, but LWC commented in the checkout line, "Isn't that kinda green?" and the watch was placed with the candy bars.

Next stop up the retail food chain is the fine French establishment Target. I found a cool, thin, Nickel-only, hypo-allergenic watch there, but it had to have links taken out. My wrist is the size of an 11-year-old girl's wrist. We gave them some time, but two associates couldn't figure out how to take out the links, despite a hang tag that said the links were easy to take out. No sale.

After a trip to the AMC Lynnhaven 18 to see Sky Kids (hey, it was funny, and it had Bruce Campbell!) we went to Watch World at the mall. I found the Fossil watch of my dreams, another red-faced hunky thing. The competent and helpful lady there took out two links in a flash, and then mentioned that the face changes colors if you press the button. But the button didn't work. She agreed to call us when she found one that did. So no sale again.

However, the great lady at Watch World mentioned the 11-year warranty that Fossil watches come with. I kept the original box for my old watch, since they're funky and collectible (trust me, it's true), but the warranty info said I needed the original purchase receipt. Sigh. No good.

Today, I made a special pilgrimage to Dillard's at Greenbrier Mall to finish the Fossil Watch Quest. There, at the jewelry counter, was my new watch with a big yellow question mark hovering over it. I right-clicked, and helpful saleslady #2 (no relation) took out two links in a flash (again), and we pressed the color changing button with glee as it worked like a charm. I am home now with my new red (and black! and blinking, if I want it to!) Fossil watch on my wrist, and it's 1:06, which I know without reaching into my pocket.

So anyway, that's the happy ever after part, but why does this kind of thing take so long? Is it me? Is it them? It's them, isn't it?

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