Overlapse

Billboards litter even the backroads. If a bird grows weary of flight he rests upon its perch. An elephant ready for a cool patch of shaded grass to lie upon need only drudge toward the enduring vehicular symphony. We all thought we could win the war for our attention by simply giving up cell phones and social media accounts, in exchange for good ole fashion paper letters by mail. We couldn't have been more wrong. Advertising campaigns seemed to get stronger in spite of our rebellion. The only way to get around this mirage of shallow allure is to go back to a time where none of that sort of thing existed. Conveniently enough you now can do just that.

As of the last year or so, about twenty or so percent of ad space is taken up by Lapse. A company of really smart people who've cracked the code of all codes offers you the consumer a product. For a yearly rate of $8,463.99 you have access to a special wrist watch that tells more than just what time it is. Most people I know that have gone to buy one return with their excitement shattered by the deal. While the annual toll is quite public, there is a hidden fee that most can't afford. That is to say most can't afford to know it. There's also no one to ask because you only get to know it if you agree to the terms and conditions along with the purchase, after which you're never heard from again. Doesn't make much sense does it?

You can walk into anywhere and hear the tales of the mysterious Lapse pitch. Some like to embellish with stories of almost getting one of the interviewers to leak the catch. The truth is that they don't even know. I only know that because I worked there for a few weeks. I'll take a poop scooping job over listening every day to the dreams and goals folks have planned for the experience just to leave irritated and disenchanted. Most involve saving the life of a loved one, or fixing a mistake they'd made, and there's at least one a day about seeing a famed concert. One man actually told me he wanted to follow the Grateful Dead a second time from start to finish. Alas he could not because it violated the terms and conditions. You never get to know exactly why but the founders prescreen and either accept or decline you based on your reason for wanting to go. It's kinda hard to watch actually. After three weeks I just walked out. I don't know if it was out of depression or insatiable curiosity but it wasn't for me.

Working there didn't work out but that doesn't mean I don't think about it every day. How much could it really cost? I mean, how do they even keep track of time travelers anyway? I'm sure it's all in the watch. Some kind of biometric thing blinks when a due date is coming up and brings you back to your original relativity, or something. Literally know one you know knows. You'd think that thought alone would make anyone consider taking the leap to becoming a time traveler. What the heck... It can't make my life any worse can it? I'll find a time period where foods easy to get when I'm hungry, and I'll figure out a way to make money with it so my watch doesn't get deactivated or whatever. My life is so stagnant, stifled, and stressful to not do it. No matter how many applications it takes to get accepted, I will get a dang watch.

Right up to the front desk I walk. David's working today. "Come to get your job back" he asks. "No, I'm submitting for a prescreen." "Oh. You look very not joking... Are you alright?"--"Yes. Mostly. I'm not crazy, I'm just ready. Sign me up." "Sure thing. There's actually a viewing available in two hours, I'll put you down." What I expected to be the longest two hours of my life couldn't have felt any faster. So much I had wanted to go over in my head before hand just exceed my capacity for processing. Nevertheless It was now time to be interviewed. The questions were asked by an interviewer whilst at least one unknown person behind the proverbial curtain did the evaluating in anonymity. Question after question, anticipation of a loud buzzer loomed harder and deeper into my spirit. Still, no red light. I told them all kinds of things about myself. Several examples of whom I would try to meet, and why. SRV, the Stones, and Queen because.... Why the heck not?? Of all the questions, only one gave me pause. It wasn't about my mental health history, or my love life. Nor did it have to do with whether or not I was allergic to vitamin B3. No... They asked me if I was afraid to die. It probably took me a whole minute to even think of one reason to or to not admit fear. I went with the first thought that God had gifted me and told them, "No." Then they said, "Alright, we just have one more question for you sir, and then we are finished here." "Shoot", I said. "Why don't you fear death?" "That's easy. I can't fear what I'll never know. I can only fear that I'll never know it."

Not once did that buzzing red light go off. I was given a piece of paper with lines to fill in about billing and package options. I arbitrarily chose the cheapest and shortest option which was for 1 year relative to present at rate of $8,463.99 per year due up front. At the bottom of the page was a box and a statement. You know exactly what that statement was. This was THE statement, and THE box of acknowledgement. I checked the box, and I signed the dotted line. Just then a door opened allowing through a casually underdressed world renowned scientist and he spoke. "Hey, I'm Joshua. I've come to deliver your terms of service and walk you through the lapse. That's what we like to call it. First we'll get your watch fitted and then show you the base room. It's more a building but someone thought room sounded better." As I'm processing this chit chat, I'm also trying to read and comprehend this term list, much of which is of a vernacular I don't resonate with. Time talk. "You're looking for the scary part," Joshua caught on. "Everyone does. I'll just tell ya, in simple terms. Never again will you see anyone whom you've seen before or has seen you. That includes yourself." He lets out a little giggle knowing full well I'm feeling a mixture of disbelief and confusion. He then continues, " What I mean is, there is now a you from a timeline where that you did not sign the terms and is still living your life. That you cannot see this you. The universe will correct it, and it's usually gross. Even if you were one the candidates to didn't get replaced with an alternate, we can't have you exposing company secrets to anyone who could be affected by your knowledge. You can travel to any point in time up to 50 years before the public opening of the company. Your watch is programed with all the rules so you can't break them. Do you have any questions so far?" I reply, "No."