When people, and by “people” I mean the Bosses, slot me in for a job I tell them that before I can commit, I need you to answer three questions. One: where exactly is the safe. Two: who made it? A name of a manufacturer. Something. A photo would do. And three: approximately how much time do I have?
To my ear, this job smacks of trouble. What’s with the “I’ll tell you about the safe. Blah. Blah. Blah.” NO! That is not blah blah blah. That is everything! I can commune with some locks. Others? I can’t feel. And if you can’t feel ‘em, they don’t open. Another thing: the cute babe assigned to the research arm of the project…I can’t figure her out. She’s like one of those expensive floor models outside my jurisdiction.
And that worries me.
(Photo: Tim Duch)