In rehab, we would sit around in group a lot. And we would sit around and share stories of the most desperate things we did to get drugs. And I would like to share one of those with you now.

So a little context for this story. Uh, in January of 2020, I'm very addicted to cocaine. I want to stop. Uh, so rather than talk to a drug counsellor, or any type of counsellor or a therapist or a doctor or literally anyone in my life, I call my accountant. And I go, "Hey, I'm addicted to coke. You need to stop giving me money. Don't give me any cash." And he goes, "God, this is not what I signed up for." I go, "The only way you can give me cash is if I email you and CC my doctor. That's thе new rule."

I hang up the phonе. I'm immediately mad about the rule. I'm like, "It's my money. Son of a bitch wants me to email him with my doctor?" So rather than pick up the phone and call him back and say, "Hey, that's not a rule anymore." Which I could totally do because I'm a grown man and he works for me. Instead, I spend the next six months finding elaborate ways to steal my own money from myself.

In August of 2020, I was very strung out. I desperately wanted cocaine. And I realized I still had a credit card that worked. And I decided I was going to buy a Rolex watch with my credit card and pawn it for cash five minutes later.

I'm pretty good at reading a room. You're all very impressed by this plan.

So, one day in August of 2020, when it is 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, I walk in to the Rolex store on Madison Avenue in Manhattan. I walk in. All the guys in there are in suits. And they're going like, "Hmm, watches... Switzerland..." They move like animatronics.

I walk in there. I'm wearing very light jeans, cuffed twice at the ankle, white Reebok sneakers, white socks, a very long white T-shirt, a white baseball cap. I am chewing Nicorette gum. I have a JanSport backpack hiked up as high as it can possibly go. I am 38 years old.

I walk into the store and I walked up to the first display case I saw, and I went, "That one. Hi! That one. I loved that watch. I want that watch, please."

The salesman turns around. He has a handkerchief already like he's a magician. He goes, "Ah! I see you're looking at the rose gold watch. Would you like to see any other timepieces?" I go, "No, no, I'm not interested in timepieces. Just watches. That's the one I want. I researched it. I know everything about it. Give me the watch, please."

He opens the display case, he takes the watch out. It's on its own little, like, suede bed, you know. He goes, "Shall we try it on your wrist?" I go, "No time. No need. It's not for me. It's a gift for my brother, and I know his wrist so well. When you're brothers, you look over. We shared a room, I'd see his wrists, so I know it's going to be perfect."

He goes, "Ah! A gift for your brother. And tell me, what rings does your brother wear?" I go... "What? Is this some kind of a riddle? Is this the initiation to some Yale White People Society? What do you mean, what kind of rings does my brother wear?"

He goes, "Well... uh, if your brother wears rings of yellow or white gold, you may not want a rose gold watch. As you may know, you should never mix metals." I go, "First off, I'm insulted you only think I might know that. I definitely know that as well as all other facts. I never mix... I wouldn't put, uh, an aluminium can next to a teakettle. I wouldn't put a trumpet on a radiator. I... Call me old fashioned but I believe in this strict segregation. You heard me. Segregation of metals within the home.

“Secondly, my brother has no rings and he never will. He never will. My brother, oh, he has no fingers. He has a stump. That... He has a stump of a hand. That's what the watch is for. Don't you see? The watch will adorn the stump, so that when he looks down at this foul thing, he will see the beautiful watch. And he will think only of the generosity of his little brother and not the horrible Vitamix accident that claimed his digits. Sell me the watch, please."
The guy takes out a green Rolex box and he opens it, puts the watch in. There's a little cardboard card in the box. He takes out a fountain pen and he's writing on the card... for what I thought was too long. I was like, "Jesus Christ, is he writing a letter to the watch? Oh, he knows I'm going to pawn it, and he wants it to have a letter to know where it came from. Everyone in this store knows I'm about to pawn this watch. They think I'm dirt, but I'm not. I'm God." That's what's going through my head.

The guy takes out a ribbon and I go, "No. No gift wrap." He goes, "I thought you said this was a gift." I go, "No. But my brother and I, we're not like that. We're not fancy. I'm going to run past his house. I'm going to throw the watch in the air. He's going to catch it on his stump. I can't show up with some big elaborate ribbon. And how would my brother even untie that? I confided in you. I confided in you about his condition and now you're giving me all this. What do you expect him to do? Pull it apart with his teeth? Sell me the watch, it’s for cocaine."

He takes my credit card. He runs it. He gives me my card back. He takes out a Rolex shopping bag. I immediately spin my JanSport backpack around, opened and unzipped. And I go, "No need." He puts the watch box in my backpack. I zip it up.

Before I'm even out the door of the store, I take out my phone and I google, 'Where sell watch right now in New York City.' A place called 'Sell your watch right now NYC' comes up. I was like, "Finally, someone in this town gets me." I call the place and I go, "Hello. Um, yes, I have a Rolex watch to sell. May I come in today?" The guy goes, "Yes, yes. What time do you want to come in?" I go, "I am two minutes away and I am sprinting towards your store. I will be there in one minute." And he goes, "Okay, I'm across the street at lunch. I'll start running too."

So now he and I are both running down 47th Street. My backpack is flying back and forth to either side like an old lady's big bosoms when she jumps up and down on the showcase showdown. We get to his business. It's above one of those big Diamond Martz, but his office is upstairs. so we go upstairs. He buzzes me in through two bulletproof glass doors. You've seen Uncut Gems.

We go into his office and we sit down, and now I have to change gears. Because, yes, I've been frenzied all morning, but I'm now selling the watch. I can't act desperate to sell it. I need to get the right price. So I have to play it very cool.

So I slowly removed my backpack, revealing a perfect outline of sweat on the straps and back. He offers me water, which I immediately refuse. Despite the fact that my lips are sticking to my teeth. I say, "Hello. I have a beautiful watch to sell. I'm in no hurry to sell it. I've had it for many years. I've never worn it either, so it's in perfect condition." He goes, "You've had this watch for many years?" I go, "That is correct." He goes, "Why don't you wear it then?" I said, "Oh, I would love to wear this watch. But you see, I wear rings... of yellow gold, and silver gold. And as we both know... you must never mush metals."

The guy opens the Rolex watch box he looks in, he looks at the little card that the guy was writing with a fountain pen on. He looks at the card. He looks at me. He looks at the card. He goes, "You've had this watch for many years?" I go, "Uh-huh." He goes, "This is today's date." And I said, "That's right." And I stared at him... with all the charm and charisma left in my drug-addled body, hoping I could somehow bend logic to make both things be true at once. I have had this watch for many years. And that is today's date.

At this point, he realizes he has the upper hand in this negotiation. I bought the watch for $12,000. Before you all flip out... please remember, watches depreciate... within seconds of leaving the store. I bought the watch for $12,000. He goes, "$5000." I go. "No." He goes, "$6000." I go, "Yes."

I feel your judgment. You must think I'm pretty stupid. Well, let me ask you this. Why don't you name a better way... to make $6000... in five minutes... by only spending... $12,000?

And... as you process and digest how obnoxious, wasteful and unlikable that story is, just remember, that's one I'm willing to tell you.