As I was heading back from my Dr. appointment in Pueblo, I needed to stop and get some gas and use the bathroom. I stopped off at a Loaf ‘n Jug to take care of business. I couldn’t help noticing that the clerk behind the counter looked amazingly like my ex. I mean double-take looked like. I had to stare at her to make sure it wasn’t her.
When I went into the bathroom, I don’t know how this happened but my pocketwatch fell out of my pocket and broke. I heard this noise and when I looked down I saw my watch on the floor. I couldn’t find the watchglass either. It had popped out. I looked and looked, but no glass. The watch used to be my grandfather’s. I started using his pocketwatch because I’m not a wristwatch kind of guy and they get dirty a lot when you work in the earth.
Then something caught my eye and this is vile, but the watchglass landed in a urinal cake. You know, there’s just some things you’re not gonna do. I work in soil, I take care of chickens, I used to have reptiles as pets and clean out their aquariums. I’ve had cats and dogs and cleaned up their shit and gutted fish I’ve caught. I’ve done some really sick things in my life that I’m not necessarily proud of, but there’s just some things you’re not gonna do. And one of those things is picking out a watchglass from an antique pocketwatch that used to be your grandfather’s, out of a urinal cake in a restroom at a Loaf ‘n Jug.
I’d pick a watchglass out of my own toilet with my own shit. I’d pick it out of a family member’s vomit or a good friend’s piss. But I’m not picking it out of a urinal cake at a Loaf ‘n Jug. Sorry, Gramps. But when I get that watch repaired, they’ll have to replace the watchglass anyway most likely, so I left it there in the urinal cake.
I didn’t put the glass-less watch in my pocket because it was like, exposed, plus it had been on the floor next to a urinal at a Loaf ‘n Jug. When I got back to the car, I looked around for something to put it in, like a bag or something. I opened up the glove box and fished around in there for something bag-like. I pulled out a small brown bag and looked in it.
There was a bracelet in there. A woman’s silver bracelet with a blue stone—lapis, I think.
I had bought that bracelet for Shar. It was probably one of those make-up gifts, although if I can remember, I think it should have been she getting me the make-up gift, but I won’t go there.
I had never given her that bracelet. I had bought it for her back in Albuquerque. The receipt was dated 2009. I had completely forgotten about it. I’d put it in my glovebox, forgot it was there, forgot I’d even bought it, and during our last year together, things had gotten so bad that I never remembered I’d gotten her the bracelet. Not even for her birthday or anything.
The strange thing about this is the convenience store clerk reminded me of her. I was having a Shar-free day up until that point. I’ve been trying to achieve my goal of having a Shar-free day, of not having thoughts about her for a whole day. I’ve gone hours without thinking about her, or our relationship, or our arguments or the end of our relationship, but not a day yet.
This won’t be one of them.
So now I have a broken pocketwatch and a woman’s bracelet, neither of which are any use to me. I can probably get the watch reparied. Maybe I’ll either save the bracelet for a whenever girlfriend or give it to a female family member. Let’s see, Melanie doesn’t wear much jewelry and neither does Mom. That leaves Marla. No, I’m not giving it to Marla. Maybe a niece. I don’t know, that’s not the sort of thing an uncle would give a niece. I guess I’m stuck with it. Something to bring back memories that I don’t want right now.