I work in a watch repair kiosk inside a train station. An older gentleman approaches, holding a clearly cheap, plastic watch. It’s lost its wrist straps so it’s just the watch face by itself.
Customer: “This used to be my brother’s. Keeps stopping. Can you fix it?”
Me: “I can take a look, but sometimes it costs more to fix these than replace them.”
Customer: “No, I don’t want to replace it. I just want it to tick again. It’s sentimental.”
That part’s fair. I nod and open the back. There’s a corroded battery welded into the contacts like it’s fossilized. I show him.
Me: “This battery probably hasn’t been changed in over a decade. It’s leaked into the movement—”
Customer: “—Oh, don’t give me the sales pitch. I’m not stupid. Just put a new battery in.”
Me: “It’s not about the battery. The acid ruined the internals. It’s basically a paperweight now.”
Customer: “You people always say that so we’ll buy a new one. I know how this works. You just want a sale.”
He storms off. A few minutes later, I hear someone trying to jam something into the coin slot of the coffee machine behind me.
It’s the same man.
It’s his watch.
Me: “That machine might give you change, but it won’t change reality.”
He stops, shocked that I’ve been able to poke my head around and see what he’s doing.
Customer: “You’re f****** useless! This watch is f****** useless!” *Kicks the coffee machine.* “This is f****** useless! My brother is f****** useless! Everything is f****** useless!”
He throws the watch to floor, and storms off. I guess he’s going through a bad… time. (Sorry.)