Just popped in to my local Rolex dealership.
When I say "local", I had to fly to a
Real country of course, now that the UK is closed for the foreseeable future.
They gave me the secret 'phone number so I could make a booking to be assessed for suitability for an appointment to book an appointment to see someone who could evaluate my suitability to be allowed to buy - over a period of years - a load of ghastly jewellery they've had hanging-around for years
and several frankly-awful watches I don't even want.
I was so grateful, I cried.
And soiled myself.
After an enjoyable couple of hours of being jeered and spat-at, I was allowed to strip naked and make myself available to the AD's assistant's secretary's PA's stool-fettler.
Here's a picture I managed to snap with what I call 'RingCam', as I earnestly and eagerly touched my toes:
He did make me bite-down hard on a well-used Omega Constellation - and I must say I was grateful for the softness of the gold. Less-so the crunchiness of the sapphire...
So, progress.
I don't yet own a Rolex, but I'm told my seventh son's seventh son may be allowed to buy a green-gold purple-dialled Air-King with blue sapphire indices sometime in the mid-2050s.
Which was nice.