Wondrous in its variety and remarkably well-adapted to its habitat, the Egana National Geographic Watch is truly a marvel of nature. Or it would be, if it wasn’t man-made.

But our expedition didn’t let qualms like that deter us from our mission: to observe and catalog these fascinating creatures in their natural habitat. None of us were sure what to expect that day as we set off from the 19th street subway station in search of our quarry. When I asked him what he thought about our chances, Mbumi, our native guide, seemed uneasy.

“Will you drop the ‘Mbumi’ crap already? My name’s Josh. Josh, got it? I’ve never been to Africa in my life.”

The first twenty minutes of our journey seemed to confirm his pessimism. The dense, winter-coated crowd packed around us made it difficult to see anyone’s watch, much less spot the elusive Egana NG. Also, Emily Watkiff, our staff photographer, is pretty sure some guy was rubbing himself against her leg for intimate purposes.

But then it happened. Just north of the park, we spotted the unmistakable orange face of the World Traveler Sierra II, known as the NG741GOMK, one of the most beautiful of all Egana National Geographic Watch species. I stifled a cry of joy. The watch perched happily on the wrist of some guy who looked kind of like a fatter Dan Cortez or whatever that one guy’s name was. You know, that cheeseball who hosted the extreme sports on MTV back in the day, with the hair and the backwards baseball hat. Careful not to startle the Sierra II, Emily approached to get a closer look. I scribbled furiously in my notebook and motioned for Mbumi to translate between me and the fat-Cortez native.

“Humblest greetings,” I began, with the elaborate politeness that native etiquette requires. “May I express to you my hope that your family is in good health and that your herds of goat are abundant and meaty?”

Mbumi had apparently fled, probably out of fear of witchcraft. So I was forced to carry on the conversation with the watch-bearing native myself. Fortunately, he possessed a rudimentary knowledge of English, as he replied: “What the hell are you talking about?”

Emily sighed heavily and tried the direct approach. “He just wants to ask you about your watch.”

“Oh, this?” The native’s brow furrowed as his mind raced through the store of watch lore that has been handed down through his people for centuries. The locals, it is said, have 47 words for “Quartz movement”. After a moment he continued: “Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess. A large face, but not too bulky, which I like. I picked it up at that watch place at 43rd & 8th. They’ve got the whole line of National Geographic watches there.”

I could scarcely believe my ears. This savage knew of a hidden sanctuary where various species of these creatures mingled freely! If his fantastical tales were true, this discovery could not only change what Western science knows about these mysterious wonders, but it would enable us to wrap up this article before lunch.

We hacked our way through the underbrush to the location described by the native. Sure enough, there they were: some two dozen unique varieties of Egana National Geographic Watch. The regal self-winding Pharoah! The gaudy orange rubber band of the Aviator I! The Skimaster, with its features for logging skiing performance! The distinctive digital blocks that made up the Time Trekker’s seconds timer! And all four colors of the Deep Blue II!

I stood stunned by the awe of the majestic wonder of this glorious marvel. My chest surged with short, urgent breaths. I have no idea how long I stood watching, but my reverie was finally broken when a native sales associate said: “Excuse me, sir, may I help you? Sir? You’re making the other patrons uncomfortable.”

Still in a state of euphoric shock, I let myself be guided out the door. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a parking garage, my jaw aching powerfully, my shoes and socks gone, and my remaining clothing soiled by a greenish substance I could not identify. Of course, Emily and Mbumi were nowhere to be seen. I had no idea how I’d gotten there. But none of it mattered. I’d seen the Egana National Geographic Watches. After such a life-changing experience, I didn’t even care – ironically enough – what time it was.

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