Pocket Watches and Murderers

     I'm not really into deadlines. Ask my High School teachers, it's actually kind of a problem. I'm not going to make up any excuses for myself, like how deadlines crush my artistic spirit or some other pretentious swill that art majors say to their professors. I'm lazy. However, this post is exciting, because this is the third straight week that I've posted a story. This is like a punctual hat-trick for me. Also, the fact that I just used a sports term is pretty impressive. Today is just full of accomplishments.

     I stopped wearing t-shirts freshman year. To this day I'm really not sure why, but I started wearing nothing but button down every day. The next year, I added vests, and the year after that, I started wearing sport coats. Add a pocket watch, a newsboy cap, and dress shoes, and you've got a kid who makes, at the very least, a memorable first impression.

     Although I dressed the part, I definitely was not living the high life, as evidenced by living in a house where one of the rooms didn't have a roof. I was hit-or-miss with words; dashingly suave one sentence, and stuttering profusely through the next. I was terrible at talking to girls, especially girls I liked, and at the same time, I found most guys to be obnoxious and hard to get along with. Social Debonair I was not.

     However, if you put me in a room with Ben, we will charm the top hat off your head. When Ben and I are together, we sound like we came out of a Jane Austen book, that was co-written by James Bond. The Sean Connery version. I'm really not sure how to explain it. For now, I just give credit to the both of us watching a great deal of British television, mixed with saying “Indeed” and “Quite” a lot. And while that's not all you need to be fancy, it does indeed seem to be quite a large part of it, indeed? Quite.

     Ben also tended to be fancier than me in a lot of cases. He was the first of the quartet to acquire a pipe (Yes, we all have pipes), he's the only one out of the two of us who has actually worn a tuxedo, as he was the only one out of the two of us to go to prom, where he arrived with two girls at his side, one of which being my then and present girlfriend. And he wore t-shirts and sneakers. No vests, no loafers, not even a pea coat. Ben was, without a doubt, the modern gentleman. That's what got me jealous.

     It was a while ago in the winter. Ben and I were sitting in a grungy Boston subway car, on our way to visit some friends in the city. I was wearing a vest and pea coat, and Ben was probably wearing a band t-shirt and some windbreaker. It was relatively empty in the car, but a rather intimidating bald man wearing a hoodie and combat boots walked towards and sat across from us. He looked to be in a hurry, however I'm still scared to think of what for.

     We sat there for a while, pretending to ignore each other, until the man finally asked us in a thick Russian accent, “Do you guys know what time it is?” My eyes widened with excitement, and a crazy grin widened on my face.

     “HELL YEAH, I DO!” This was right around the time that I bought a pocket watch, and I was excited to get the attention deserved from it, even though I forgot that this guy was probably going to kill somebody that day. However, this excitement led me to think of the next two seconds as a race between Ben and I. Here's the thing: In order to get to my pocket watch, I have to undo the three buttons on my coat, reach into my vest pocket, raise up the watch, and open it via a sometimes malfunctioning button. Ben had to raise his wrist up.

     It was a hopeless mission. This undoubtedly upright citizen of Boston needed the time, and only I could give it to him... from a pocket watch. I did what was necessary. I stood up, skipped the buttons altogether, and just lifted up my coat so I could get to the pocket. I ripped the watch from my vest, forced open the cover, and read the man the time. I was proud, I was victorious, and I was in a Boston subway with my pea coat hunched up to my ribs holding a pocket watch. 

     I looked back at Ben, who was looking down in shame. Probably because of his defeat. I looked back at the man, who couldn't think of words to say. Speechlessly in awe, no doubt. It was right around then when I realized Ben didn't even have a watch.

     There was no race. I was the only one who had the time on the whole freaking train car. And I just made myself look like an idiot trying to out-class Ben, who was wearing a goddam WINDBREAKER. I definitely had a problem, and I needed to “declass” a bit. So I planned to spend the next couple of weeks hanging out with Cory.

     We later found out that day that my pocket watch was off by an hour. However, we just shrugged and figured that we probably prevented a murder from happening. Hopefully. But I decided then that Ben and I should never compete for fanciness. It was just something that we were, and we worked even better when together. That day, when I came to this decision, I had a short talk with him on the car ride home.

     “Ben?” I began.

     “Mmm?” He replied.

     “You truly are quite the gentleman.”

     He looked at me for a moment, puzzled. Then he looked back towards the road, pondered a little while, and finally gave his response.

      “Indeed.”