The Chevrolet Set

Years ago, my sister was gifted with a real Rolex watch.  For the first few weeks that she had it, she would wear short sleeves, generously offer the time to anyone, twist her wrist a lot, and refer to it (constantly) in casual conversation.  "Did you know that my Rolex can withstand enough water pressure to be worn while SCUBA diving?"  "My Rolex automatically adjusts to any time zone in the world!"  She's never been SCUBA diving, or travels internationally much--save for a disastrous family European vacation.  Where was that amazing watch when she and my niece wasted hours in Parisian souvenir shops resulting in me being late for (and subsequently denied) my tour of the Notre Dame? 

I admit, I was slightly jealous.  Not because I wanted a fucking Rolex, but because I wanted to sell the damn thing and use the money to go on vacation or buy some expensive clothes.  Which is what I think she should have done with it, because it has been sitting in her jewelry box for about six years or so.  Before retiring to its permanent home in the jewelry box, however, the watch provided a bit of entertainment for me and, I believe, for my sister as well.

Sometime during the honeymoon phase of her relationship with the watch, my sister and I visited a local bar.  I wouldn't consider it a four-star establishment, but it wasn't a dive.  It had a wine selection.  We, as per usual, drank heavily while seated at one end of the bar that was closest to the wine rack.  Last call was impending and we wanted to continue to drink.  I informed my sister that the bar was known to sell "to-go" drinks.  She agreed that we needed some drinks to-go, but she did not agree that we should pay for them.  She studied the wine rack, chose a bottle, stuffed it under her shirt and covered up with her jacket.

The bartender witnessed her attempt and immediately said, "Hey! Put back that bottle of wine you are trying to steal!"

My sister, while throwing her hands in the air, responds with, "Fuck you! I'm not stealing shit!"  Then she flashes her wrist at the man and says, "My Rolex could buy this dump!"  Really.

All of her arm and wrist movements must have loosened up the hold her shirt had on the wine. Almost instantly after "dump!", the wine fell out of her jacket and onto the floor--breaking the bottle.

She and I exchanged glances, and without saying a word, we ran out the back door.  Fast.