You can’t be in the Grateful Dead, John Mayer.
“I remember thinking — and this is a very important feeling — that I could go anywhere with this watch, because I couldn’t be lost,” he said. “I could get lost in Paris, but I had my watch. Now, on its face, no pun intended, it doesn’t make sense. All your watch does is tell the time. But why do you feel strapped? Why do you feel equipped?
“It would take a lot of poetry to explain it.”
Everyone hates you John Mayer, and you’re terrible.
After a decade of serious collecting, he was established enough as a connoisseur to ask Patek Philippe (the Geneva-based maker of ultra-high-end watches, founded in 1839) to make him unique pieces by request. One was a white gold 5004G with luminous hands, typically a feature associated with casual sport watches. He needed to see them on stage, he told the company.
Where do you have to be, John Mayer? Do you have a curfew? Is there another interview for you to say something idiotic at, you pretentious piece of cowfuck?
“I’ve always pitched this theory of, if a guy comes up to a restaurant in a red Ferrari, you kind of recoil,” he said. “But if you find out that the guy owned 14 of them and he writes a blog on them, then you can appreciate it, because you can trust that there’s a depth to it.”
You’ve pitched that theory, have you? You’re the Niels Bohr of store-bought cool. Tell me more about the research you’ve done. School me on intention vs. action.
Where’d you get your ink done, man? Show us your tattoos, John Mayer.
“We’re all going to end up with the Apple Watch, I don’t care what you say,” Mr. Mayer said. “Even if you have to wear it on your right hand. Even if you wear it as a pocket watch, because I have a concept that you can slot the Apple Watch into a pocket, as a pocket watch. I think it’s a cool device, but there’s got to be another place to put it. I can’t give up precious wrist space for an Apple Watch.”
Hey, everyone: gather round and listen to John Mayer’s concept. He’s invented the iPhone.
His wrist space is precious, but he’ll let out the bit between his ears for cheap.
“My first tattoo looks nothing like my last tattoo, and they’re the same thing,” Mr. Mayer said. He pulled up the right sleeve of his T-shirt to demonstrate.
“That’s the best koi fish you can find,” he said dismissively, nodding toward the crude fish tattoo he got at 18. “And that,” he said, pulling up his other sleeve to show off a lovely reinterpretation he got at 32, “is the koi fish that you want.”
He lowered the sleeve. “It all represents the trip through knowledge.”