I’ve spent too much time staring at the clock, full of anxiety, watching seconds pass. I’ve internalized the rhythm, just like with a song.
It’s a cool trick, sometimes. People get a kick out of me calling out the microwave timer from across the room.
It would have to more for me if they add rules and a contract, though. You’d want to make it look incredibly anti-musk to avoid someone fucking up the car.
Granted, you’d still make money up to that point.