This story originally appeared on the Gents Cafe Newsletter. You can subscribe here.
My colleagues and I had just landed in Mexico City for a new campaign photoshoot and our agency had arranged car service to pick us up. The car was a brand-new, white Suburban, very comfortable and spacious, and I sat in the front seat with plenty of legroom. From the CDMX airport the drive would take about 40 minutes to get to our hotel, and I had some emails to catch up on, so I opened my laptop and got to work.
Like nearly every trip I’ve taken for over the past dozen years, I was wearing the 1972 Rolex Submariner that my father-in-law gave me before my wedding in 2013. (To understand how special and dear this watch is to me, I could write an article entirely about it – which in fact I did a few months back for this exact publication.)
Halfway on our route to the hotel we came up to a heavily congested stoplight, when I heard a knock on my passenger-side window. When I turned to look, I was staring at two men dressed head-to-toe in black on a single motorcycle. With a gun pointed at me.
I’m proud that my first instinct upon seeing the gun was to put my hands up – what we all say we would do if ever in the position of being mugged at gunpoint.
However, I did not expect what was coming next. Immediately after raising my hands, the gunman – in one smooth, fluid stroke – slammed the stock of the gun through the Suburban’s passenger side window, shattering glass all over my lap. This was not his first rodeo.
He made one gesture with the gun, pointing it at my left wrist with the Rolex on it. I immediately unclasped it and put it in the anticipating fingers of his free hand. As soon as his fingers were around the Rolex, he tapped the driver of the bike, and they were immediately off, swerving and disappearing through the congested Mexico City intersection, with no license plate or distinguishable characteristics to have any chance of finding them. They – and my watch – were gone forever.
Despite that wild and scary event, I feel grateful. My colleagues and I were unharmed. The whole episode from the knock on the glass to them speeding away took under 30 seconds. It was emotionally intense, but it could have been incredibly more traumatic and distressing.
There’s no doubt I will miss that special, heirloom watch dearly. But things are replaceable, and people are not. With the foresight to have property insurance, I will replace this watch with the closest 1970s, midnight-blue-face Rolex Submariner I can find. And through the new watch, the story of this old watch will continue, just like a family’s legacy continues when new generations are born and old generations pass.
And, like any intense life event, I am walking away from this with great wisdom and life lessons:
1. Be humble when you travel. You’re not invincible, and you don’t need to wear your finest when traveling through the airport (especially in countries with higher levels of crime and destabilization).
2. I still adore the beautifully vibrant city that is CDMX. There are bad people everywhere and this one exceptional instance cannot overshadow the welcoming warmth and world-class culture that truly represents Mexico City.
3. Things are things. It’s the stories that make them important, especially with possessions that have been passed down generations with multiple story arcs. And boy, do I have a wild arc to add to this watch’s story.
4. Get your valuables insured!
