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downward spiral for my old watch

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

I took my watch in to the shop once again, annoyed. I told the fellow that the thing had been stopping, and he asked me to leave it with him.

By afternoon he called up to tell me that he'd put a spacer in behind it so that the face and arms had a bit more space. Apparently the hands can actually get stopped up on the face, which makes sense I suppose.

He'd also removed some bit of dirt or something that had gotten into the gears. And that he'd replaced the battery—apparently the jerks at the jewelry store hadn't put the right battery in. So there were three possible sources of the thing stopping, and he'd fixed them all.

And the charge, including the new battery? $0.

W'hoo!