By Trebor Elliverf
I’m so glad that I took off work so I could stand in line for 18 hours to buy my new Apple watch. I can see it watching me through the storefront window, anticipating that wondrous moment when we will be united and I will place it on my arm.
Can you see my watch watching me? Watch me watch my watch as my watch watches me.
It knows I’m coming.
It knows everything about me.
When I get my watch home, we will watch Netflix together and my watch will watch me cry when Hank gets shot in the face in Breaking Bad.
My watch will know what to watch next. I feel an emotional connection to Hank, so I’ll feel an emotional connection to Under the Dome because Dean Norris is in it.
Watch my watch watch me sleep and monitor my circadian rhythm. My watch will know how to cure a hangover.
Watch what happens when I smoke too many cigarettes and my watch starts recommending vape juices and e-cigarettes and Chantix. Apparently my watch is close personal friends with Ray Liotta.
Watch watch learn. Watch watch implement.
Watch me add things to my cart. Watch me post pictures of Apple products to Instagram.
Watch me fall ill and forget to update my status. Watch me lose likes and friends.
My watch is low on battery so it feeds on its host.
Watch me lose weight. Watch my skin turn yellow.
My watch tells me I need to go jogging more often.
Watch Dick run as his watch counts the calories he’s burned.
Watch me strive for success and excellence in everything I do. Watch me learning to be my best self possible.
Watch my watch tell me how to live my life.
Watch my disapproving watch as it alerts police that I am up to no good. Watch my privacy repealed and my watch evolve.
Now watch me saw through my own radius as the tightens its grip on me. Watch my watch fall away from me. Watch me shut off.
Watch me no more.
…Okay, watch me again! Watch me show up to buy Apple’s new EyePhone Retinal Implant. Watch me watch myself watching things.
Watch the world evolve.