Christmas in the Deep South Days 7-9: Apparently I Look Rich

After our exhausting game of in-law ping-pong, we spent the remainder of our Christmas visit to the Deep South attempting to entertain ourselves. This mostly consisted of driving around town in search of something to do until it was time to go to dinner with various friends each evening. We went to the mall to exchange a Christmas gift but didn’t shop because there’s not even a Macy’s. We ate lunch at our favorite restaurants – the only thing we really miss is southern food. One day, after two trips to Starbucks, we decided to stop in a jewelry store which we knew to have some reasonably priced items. I have been wanting a new watch for some time now and would be perfectly content with an $85 Fossil. I imagined, based on past experiences with this establishment, that they would carry some watches just a little more expensive than Fossil alongside the very pricey brands. Before going in, Aquarius said, “Just get a feel for what you like and don’t worry about the prices. We can afford to spend a few hundred on a watch.” I promised not to even look at the tags.

In the very back of the store stood a semi-circle of watch cases. I began slowly making my way around overwhelmed by the vast selection. There was everything from leather-banded bulky faces to dainty gold bracelets that doubled as timepieces. I wondered how anyone could even tell the time on the tiny dress watches that lacked numbers or even hash marks. As I neared the end of the arc, I spied what I was looking for: the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, a case full of colorful watches. Unfortunately, a male customer being helped by a salesman blocked my path. As I came to a halt to wait my turn, a woman popped out of nowhere to help me. When asked what we might be shopping for, Aquarius told her we were looking for a watch, and I explained that I would prefer one with a pink or a blue face. Her eyes lit up, I now realize, with dollar signs.

“Have you ever considered an Ebel or a Baume and Mercier?” she immediately asked as if reading from a script. Being completely ignorant of expensive watches, I replied that this was the first place I had looked and had not yet settled on a particular brand. “How do you feel about mother-of-pearl?”

“I’m open to it,” I replied politely but noting that she had glossed over my true color preference and the only thing I had given her as a starting point. I was still furtively glancing at that last case trying to get a peak. Under the assumption that many watches crowded together in one case means they are less expensive, I thought that would be our first stop. She promptly took me in the opposite direction. My hopes rose as we came near the Gucci case – a brand I recognized – but we quickly passed it by. We arrived at a sparsely filled case containing lots of mother-of-pearl, gold, and diamonds but no pink or blue. The saleswoman slipped a diamond encircled, square faced Baume and Mercier onto my wrist. Abiding by my promise, I was clueless of the price and gave a nonchalant, “Oh, it’s nice.” When Aquarius looked at the tag without flinching, she quickly moved on to an Ebel.

My facial expression showed little excitement so she said, “We passed another watch on the way over here that I think you may really like.” I followed her to the very middle of the arc of cases, to the crown jewel of the timepiece section – Rolex. Until that point I had been unsure as to which way this was going, now I was certain. Either our clothing or our lack of a southern drawl indicated something to her which we had not intended. Earlier on in our small-talk she had assumed that we were from out of town and asked if we were visiting for the holidays. She pegged us for rich East Coasters with money to blow on bling. Too bad she hadn’t seen us drive up in our fairly new but very modest Ford. I tried on the Rolex. At least it was pink, but it was also $6,000. To my surprise the Rolex wasn’t amazing. In fact, all of the watches I tried on that day, the cheapest of which I later found out was $3,000, didn’t strike me as being anything particularly special. I’m sure they last forever and are expertly crafted, but if the last watch I tried on hadn’t been inscribed with the Rolex symbol, I wouldn’t have known that I was supposed to be impressed. By this time the customer on the end had finished his shopping, but I never did find out which brand was so colorful crowded together in that last case. After trying on a Rolex it seemed impolite to ask to see a cheaper watch. If the saleswoman had paid any attention to my interest in blue, she may have made some commission that day.

Before we left, she insisted on giving us some literature on the Ebel which I had confessed to liking the most. I was expecting a pamphlet but instead was presented with a one inch thick hardbound book. Confused about whether or not this was a complimentary gift, we stood at the counter flipping through the glossy pages. It contained information about the company, the craft of watch manufacturing, and featured several pages on each watch in their line. The woman insisted that we take the book telling us, “Ebel spares no expense. I have a whole stack back here.” I politely declined explaining that I am too green, would be forced to recycle it later, and preferred to do my watch research on-line.

We barely made it out of the store and into the car before Aquarius let out an enormous laugh accompanied by, “She thought we were rich!” I commended him on his poker face when he recounted the prices to me. I did later look on-line to confirm that she had in fact taken us to the absolutely most expensive watches in the store. I also discovered that I really like the Gucci watches and some of the ones she passed by in her quest for a diamond sale were only $500. Of course I say “only” with a completely new perspective on watch pricing. A quick look at Macys.com also revealed that I can get an Armani or a DKNY for well within my price range. I am used to salespeople steering me toward the least expensive items in a store, and I can hardly blame them since I pick my wardrobe based on comfort and my own personal style rather than on designer brands. I never imagined that I would be mistaken for someone with thousands to spend on something as trivial as a watch. I’ve been relying on my iphone to tell me the time for the past six months. Maybe one day I will be a rich and famous writer and will think differently, but for now I will head to the Fossil counter at Macy’s.

Christmas in the Deep South Series:

The Road Trip

Family Ties & Ping-Pong

Maybe I Am a Snob