Synchronicity
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"So you got kicked out of California too?" says Ethan.
"Well, if you call being handcuffed into the luggage compartment of a Greyhound bus at gunpoint 'kicked out'." I says. "I considered it more being escorted. Besides, it was a mutual decision. I'm just too edgy for conservative prudes like that."
"You don't have many states left."
"I know," I says, setting my watch back to central time. "This whole country is going to crap."
"That clock is a few minutes fast," Ethan points out.
"Why is it," I complain, "that every clock in this building says something different?"
"Hey, feel free to fix them yourself," says Ethan dismissing me with a hand gesture absently. "You can't really travel much anymore. Might as well make yourself useful."
***
The reason Ethan gives me these technical jobs is because of they are often fraught with hidden complexities.
For instance, I would set the clocks at 2:35, but the Predator Press warehouse is massive; by the time I got done, the first one would be several minutes off.
In an effort to synchronize them perfectly, I tried running, but the Safety jerks yelled at me out of fear I would get hit by the swarms of well-orchestrated forklifts and equipment.
I got 16 people -one for each clock-who were all supposed to simultaneously set their respective clock when I stated the time over their radios. But when you hand 16 industrial guys radios, suddenly they think it's Karaoke night; I couldn't get a word in edgewise between the howling, tone-deaf tinny choruses of "I Got Friends in Low Places" and "Take this Job and Shove it".
The only way I'm going to be able to do this effectively is going to be by setting the clocks, and then turning them all on at the same time. And the only way to do that it appears, will be by pulling this 'Main Power' swi
[LOBO]
"So you got kicked out of California too?" says Ethan."Well, if you call being handcuffed into the luggage compartment of a Greyhound bus at gunpoint 'kicked out'." I says. "I considered it more being escorted. Besides, it was a mutual decision. I'm just too edgy for conservative prudes like that."
"You don't have many states left."
"I know," I says, setting my watch back to central time. "This whole country is going to crap."
"That clock is a few minutes fast," Ethan points out.
"Why is it," I complain, "that every clock in this building says something different?"
"Hey, feel free to fix them yourself," says Ethan dismissing me with a hand gesture absently. "You can't really travel much anymore. Might as well make yourself useful."
***
The reason Ethan gives me these technical jobs is because of they are often fraught with hidden complexities.
For instance, I would set the clocks at 2:35, but the Predator Press warehouse is massive; by the time I got done, the first one would be several minutes off.
In an effort to synchronize them perfectly, I tried running, but the Safety jerks yelled at me out of fear I would get hit by the swarms of well-orchestrated forklifts and equipment.
I got 16 people -one for each clock-who were all supposed to simultaneously set their respective clock when I stated the time over their radios. But when you hand 16 industrial guys radios, suddenly they think it's Karaoke night; I couldn't get a word in edgewise between the howling, tone-deaf tinny choruses of "I Got Friends in Low Places" and "Take this Job and Shove it".
The only way I'm going to be able to do this effectively is going to be by setting the clocks, and then turning them all on at the same time. And the only way to do that it appears, will be by pulling this 'Main Power' swi
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