Every collector has a watch that changed the way they collect.
Mine arrived in a Cheesecake Factory parking lot.
It started with a MacBook Pro for sale.
It had been my work laptop until I was laid off. The company generously let me keep it as part of my severance package, but I already owned a personal computer. I didn’t need the money as much as I simply didn’t need another computer. What had once been an everyday tool had quietly become something I no longer had a use for.
It wasn’t sentimental. It wasn’t even emotional. It was just aluminum and microchips.
So I listed it on Facebook Marketplace. Mostly, I expected someone to buy it. Almost as an afterthought, I added one more line to the listing:
Trades for automatic watches considered.
I didn’t really expect anything to come from it. If anything, I figured I’d spend a few days declining fake Rolexes, questionable fashion watches, and the occasional mystery brand I’d never heard of.
Instead, one of the first serious offers was an Oris Big Crown ProPilot Big Day Date.
Not just any automatic watch. One of the watches sitting at the very top of my wishlist.
I knew exactly what I was looking at. I’d already spent plenty of time staring at the ProPilot online, drawn to the contrast between its flat gray dial and oversized white numerals. But it was the textured, almost rope-like bezel, a design inspired by a jet turbine, that really hooked me. Add the day-date complication, which would be a first for me, and a size that looked great on my wrist, and I’d already decided it would probably be one of my next watches.
And now one had somehow appeared in my Marketplace inbox.
There was no way this was going to work.
Then came the excitement. Then the skepticism.
Marketplace has a funny way of making you question good news. Surely there had to be a catch. Maybe it was fake. Maybe it was stolen. Maybe it was just another deal that would quietly disappear before it ever happened.
The funny thing was, the seller seemed just as cautious as I was. Someone in his family needed a laptop for school, and my MacBook solved a problem for him just as neatly as his Oris solved one for me.
Over the next couple of days, we exchanged messages while he thought through the trade. I was sold from the beginning. He, understandably, needed a little more time. I followed up more than once, increasingly convinced that the deal was going to fall apart before it ever happened.
Eventually, he agreed, and we settled on a meeting place: a Cheesecake Factory parking lot.
I got there early. Partly because I wanted to be on time. Mostly because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t walking into something stupid.
A few minutes later he pulled in, right on time. We both climbed out of our cars a little cautiously, each of us apparently wondering whether the other guy was actually going to have what he’d promised.
He powered on the MacBook, checked the battery, connected to Wi-Fi, and went through the other basics. I wound the watch, cycled the day and date, and made sure everything worked exactly as it should.
The watch wasn’t perfect. There were a few scratches on the clasp, though he assured me they looked much worse in the photos.
He was right.
We were both satisfied. We shook hands, thanked each other, got back in our cars, and went our separate ways.
Once he had driven away, the nervousness disappeared. I texted my wife to let her know I hadn’t been robbed or murdered, and the excitement took over.
At the first stoplight, I looked over at the new passenger sitting beside me. Then I looked again at the next one.
I couldn’t wait to get home and take a closer look at my new watch.
There was one thing about it I hadn’t planned on: the nylon strap.
I’d always pictured the ProPilot on its stainless steel bracelet. In fact, until that Marketplace message, I didn’t even know Oris offered it on nylon. I assumed the strap would be temporary.
It wasn’t.
The nylon made the watch lighter and far more comfortable than I expected. Combined with the few marks already on the clasp, it was just easy to wear.
This was my first pre-owned watch. Every watch I’d owned before had arrived brand new, untouched, and perfect. This one was gorgeous and clearly well cared for, but someone had worn it before me.
The first scratch had already happened.
So had the second.
There was no ceremony the first time I accidentally rubbed the clasp against a table. No staring at a tiny mark from six different angles wondering whether it had been there before.
I just wore the watch. And then I wore it again.
It didn’t take long before I realized I was reaching for the ProPilot more than almost anything else I owned. It was light, comfortable, went with just about everything, and somehow felt easier to wear than watches that had cost me considerably more.
I eventually tracked down the stainless steel bracelet I’d originally wanted. I tried it for a little while.
Now it has a comfy place in the accessory drawer of my watch box.
The ProPilot went back on nylon.
The pre-owned thing stuck too. That Oris was my first Marketplace watch and my first pre-owned watch, but it wasn’t my last. I became more willing to experiment with straps and considerably less concerned about whether a watch came to me untouched.
Somewhere along the way, I even developed a soft spot for what I jokingly think of as rescue watches.
That first trade has probably saved me thousands of dollars over the years. More importantly, it opened me up to watches I might have passed over before simply because they weren’t brand new and wrapped in plastic.
I don’t know where that MacBook is today. Maybe it helped someone through school. Maybe it’s sitting in a drawer. At this point, it may not even turn on.
The Oris is still here. Still carrying a few marks from the person who owned it before me, along with a few I’ve undoubtedly added myself. Still on the nylon strap. Still one of my go-to watches.
I listed a computer I didn’t need, and someone else offered me a watch I already wanted. We met in a Cheesecake Factory parking lot, made sure neither of us was getting ripped off, shook hands, and drove away happy.
I’d make that trade again.