In a few short years, I have been transformed by unspeakable, unknowable, eldritch forces from a carefree, happy fellow with not a single functioning watch to his name into a full-blown WIS, with a house awash in watch winders, watch catalogs, empty watch boxes, and Way Too Many Watches. I find myself staying up 'till all hours chatting with fellow addicts world-wide. I track the spot price of the Lange One on all major world markets, and know the well-guarded names of those daemons who sell them, for a price, to helpless hungering souls. After much study of forbidden and musty tomes, I have become fluent in obscure and forgotten currency conversions, the mysteries of finding reliable shipping firms, and, worst of all, the maddening, horrifying lore of customs duties. The sickness has a strong hold upon me.
I record the story of my voyage to destruction in these pages, in the hope that some of you may be able to escape the fate which now so clearly awaits me, lurking hideously outside my threshold. My hours are numbered, and I fear that there is no hope of salvation for me, but many of you reading this still have a chance, if only you heed my warnings...
I must now put down my pen and go to my doom - some gibbering thing is scratching for me at the door. It is hidden in the guise of a UPS delivery man, but I Know Its True Form!
The Horror...
Here's what was going through my mind when I made each purchase. This is presented in chronological order, and I hope that it will help you clearly identify the evil forces that will drag you down the path to WISdom...
Just buy that Lange (or Patek, or Rolex, or Vacheron, or whatever your personal Grand Ultimate Fetish Object is) first, and save yourself some agony and expense. Once you've gotten The Best, you may be able to resist a lot of impulse purchases, and avoid cluttering up your house with watchwinders, cases, and so on.