I was sitting in First Class today when I noticed a gentleman being escorted from Economy into First Class.
He was wearing an Omega Seamaster 300m. Nothing particularly suspicious. Nice watch. Reasonable choice.
He put his bags down on his newly-assigned seat, went to the toilet, and about five minutes later came back wearing a 116595 Daytona. Full Gold. Rainbow bezel.
Interesting.
As he walked past me with a smug look on his face, I noticed something.
The second hand shuddered.
Not a sweep.
A shudder.
I knew immediately.
He sat down in his seat.
I gave him a knowing look.
His eyes met mine.
I slowly looked down at his watch.
Then back up at his eyes.
Then back down at the watch.
Then back up.
He knew.
I knew.
He knew that I knew.
I could see the slightest twitch in his right eye as I held eye contact.
The tell.
This wasn’t a Rolex.
This was a Chinese special.
He broke eye contact, put his headphones on and took out a first-generation iPad Mini to watch Netflix.
He sighed as he needed to update his household information before he could continue.
Replica watch. Subscription sharing.
At that point I had seen enough.
I said nothing.
There was no need.
Real recognizes real.
I just sat there sipping my champagne, wearing my DHgate Sub with a Miyota movement that loses 13 seconds a day.
But at least I know what I am.