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HoboJoe

Found a Genuine watch - I'm keeping it cuz I'm poor

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HoboJoe

I found a watch. I’d be darned if I knew if ’twas  a good ‘un at first. Ain’t been no good watches on my arms in many moons, more than I can remember. Wasn’t always like that though. I use t’be a normal, everyday Joe. No ‘un paid attention t’me in any special way, ‘cept for my money . People always pay ‘tention to money. But I was normal. Just like you, sure as the day is long in this here Winter. Yessiree, normal, until I got hooked on the junk. Fuckin’ junk. Everyone warned me about it. I laughed at them. I was rich. I had a job, a darned good one. I drove a car worth more than sum’v those people make in a year. But the junk. Once I tried it, I couldn’t stop. So while I was an everyday Joe, I was a rich everyday Joe. Now, they call me Hobo Joe.

PART ONE - I love you Girly Shirly, and you have to die.

I’d be doing anything I wanted back then. I’d pay people to eat scraps off the ground if it’d please me. And it did. Much like like. If someone wouldn’t do it, I’d offer’m more money. They always would in the end. Money does that. Makes people do anything. And that included Girly Shirly. Against t’odds, she was my love. She’d come from nothin’, but with’r good looks she’d made an impression on me. And something about her I couldn’t bring myself to face. Her heart. Bigger than any I’d ever done seen this side of the Rockies. And in the end, that’s why she died so violently. And her death started my own downward spiral to the pits b’low the void. If I could take it back, I would.

Now, this watch here that I come ‘cross is reminding me of those times, ‘cause this watch looks like the one that killed Shirly. In fact, this could be the same watch, if it’d travelled across the world, only t’come back into my hands somehow, but I don’t think that’d be possible. See, Shirly was buried with that watch. I made sure of that.

Here’s what this one looks like though, f’r better or worse.

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Has pure gold on it. Looks better than a Rolex, and I been having my share of those in’t past.

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Damn fine piece right here. Found it in a bag on t’beach. I sneak m’way round there a’times to see if anything of value be left out, and this was in a bag. Saw the family swimming' in the ocean. Gave me lot o' time. Wrapped in socks. Dirty f’n socks let me tell ya. I hate dirty socks. Nothing good ever come from’em.

How I got’t Australiana is another story, f’another time. Railcars only take you s’far, and getting here took somethin’ special, tell me you.

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Not a bad piece of time keeping if you ask me. But I bet yo’r wonerin’ how this has to do with the death of Shirly, so let me get to that. Like told, Shirly’s heart was too big. She had the ability to keep me back down on this round planet of ours, instead of my head blowing up big and getting real excited like. And when I got excited, bad things’d happen to people. But, by this time the junk had a grip on me. It would make me into someone new, horrible, slowly over time. I was getting’ bad inside, real nasty like. And that girl with the big heart just happened to be with me on the wrong night, and say somehin’ wrong. Wrong for me anyhow. Wrong for her now. Much bad bad.

She saw it on my wrist, and she took a fancy to it. ‘Nough of a fancy that she asked me to give it to her, so she c’d remember me. It was a confusing time you see, and she was trying to tell me she was leaving’ town, and that she wasn’t coming’ back again. She was leaving me here with my job, my money and my house so she could take off to the wind and find true love she said. True love. Horse shit if I’d ever heard it at the time. But money’d done that t’me. I’d grown cold, calloused. I didn’t believe in love, 'specially when I could get whatever I wanted with money. But she wouldn’t be had. No m’re.

Now I ain’t gonna tell you exactly what happened next, cuz some things’re better left unsaid, if you know what I mean. But the next day, I gave her a burial down at the river, the one running’ next to the old cement factory that’d shut down ages ago back when all the life dried up on that side of town. And as I saw her in that hole, and I dug my first shovel of dirt to throw on her, I paused. It wasn’t my fault. It was that watches fault. She’d wanted that goddamn watch so bad, she c’d have it. And have it she did. I took it off, put it onto her arm, and then started shovellin’. I shovelled till there was nothing left but dirt over top’er. Wet dirt. That river seeped into everything. It wouldn’t keep her for long. I had to leave town. But I had to get my junk first. And when I went home to get it, things took a nasty turn for me. Real nasty. I'd not revisit that memory anytime soon.

PART TWO - A priest sets me straight. To Hell.

B’fore I tell you how I come to be hooked on the junk, it’d be wise of me to tell you who’s responsible for hookin’ me. Goddamn Priest. You b’lieve  that? A goddamned priest. You see, I’d been using, for many years this online social thing called Sinner. You c’d find anything you wanted on there. Any. Thing. And wit all my money, that’s what I’d been doing for years. Dark Web stuff. Hell, that’s the only reason I can type this t’you now. I know tech. I can sit here’n a public library and type this. Cuz I still remember how. Like a bike. Tell you.

One thing I did do, is I’d look this watch I found up on the Web. Nev’heard of a Pulsar. Being one to come from Rolex, Blancpain, Vacheron and the like, so I know it must be really expensive, a level above what I used to afford m’self if I ain’t never heard of it now.

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Been years since wearing m’watches, but these details bring me back. Luxury. Again.

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Sinner. That Priest. We’d arranged t’meet in his church. Been exchanging pictures to each other over the web, now it was time to see each others in person. I been curious for many a year, lemme tell you dat. I been wanting to hold one in my hand. Feel it on my skin. Shit, even kiss it like I do with mine. What I didn’t know, was the Priests junk was high, high quality. In the confession booth when the partition raised, and’e stick his through I nearly gasped so loud the nuns, if'r were any'd here it an blush, I tell you. Never seen one like that. 

Look at’t crown on this beauty.

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He swore to his All Mighty it was real, and that’s when I was hooked on the junk. T’was better than I’d ever thought’d be. And the high it gave me. Damned it all to Hell in a hand basket.

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Wasn’t long till the Priest was scoring for me every week. I want’d it every day at a point and he said it wasn’t to be done. But he done good enough to get my finances droppin’ faster than a ten dollar prostitutes pants when you offer her a Hundred. They light on fire when that happens.

Library people tellin’ me I gotta leave now, closing up. If you don’t know, I’m in Australia right now. Gold Coast it be called. Ain’t no better place to be homeless. Lot’s a fruit boxes to mak’a comfy bed from. And tourists! Damned be! I stole a camera phone from a little boy on the beach. Been using it for my pictures here. I’ll take what I get. Sony Ericsson, good to see they still make quality cameras.

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But I’m g’be back one day. Got here my watch. I was self made back then, built those bank accounts from nothin’, and maybe I do it again. Staying away from that junk though. Biggest lesson I ever done learn, was just stay away from replica watches, cuz they’re junk, and they get you hooked with the easy prices, high looking quality and a selection make do anything t’get them.

Selling what you have, just t’get that junk. Don’t be like me.

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fatarms

This looks a little familiar... :lol:

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BadApple

Bless him.....

GLWS

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blueoysterboy

Makes perfect sense to me.  GLWS

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Wriggles

Welcome McHoboJoe.... 

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GingerApple

I'm not playing.

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RussP

Obviously someone with plenty of time on  (his) hand(s).

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