Last week my son was pretending to be a wolf in the kitchen (as four-year-olds do). Inevitably, he face-planted on the tile floor and suffered a bloody snout. As I scooped up my wounded canine, blood poured down my arm, shoulder to hand. 
I wear a dive watch most days, and this day was no exception. After Googling “How to stop a bloody nose,? I rotated the count-up bezel and prepared to pinch both nostrils shut for 10 minutes. The usually crisp bezel action felt… sticky. I looked down to realize bodily fluids had covered my watch, collecting on every textured surface: the depressed markers on the modified bezel, the crown ridges, and between bracelet links.  With only one free arm, I did not dare risk opening the nasal floodgates to remove my watch.
After the minute hand safely crossed the stained 10-minute marker, I gave my watch a quick bath in the sink. It thanked me for the brief excitement and continued its primary function of keeping time until the next time it would be called to action, likely in the near future. After all, kids are gross. My watches are accustomed to poorly aimed sneezes and spilled glasses of milk. PSA: never buy a used watch from me.
Prior to 2020, I wore dress watches to a shared office. Usually a time-only Citizen or something similar readily available at the local mall. As a bearded guy with mop of unruly hair, a shiny 38mm dress watch was my lazy attempt to look the part. This self-imposed pressure dissipated with the ...