My third job was as a pin boy. It would be hard to come up with a less suitable job. I had applied at a bowling alley (a place I'd never set foot in before.. that or any other bowling alley) and was instantly hired. I thought I would be at the counter giving people the ugly shoes and telling them where the toilets were but the boss (who was pretty much George Costanza's father) led me down alongside the alleys to a mysterious door and into the secret world behind the pins. The bowling machines were huge, they were like 8 feet tall and and full of gears and baskets and pulleys and they made terrible noises scooping up the pins, popping them into their holders, setting them in place.
At this point in my life I couldn't so much as fix a bike chain, I was mechanically retarded in the extreme and I knew it.
Mr Costanza waved his hand at this long hall of monstrosities and said, "these are the machines.. you will be in charge of them."
Terrible, terrible things would go wrong, buzzers would sound and I would have to CLIMB to the top of the machine after turning it off (very important) and wrench the ripped up pins out of the system and try and figure out what belts had slipped. If I didn't fix it in like three minutes Mr. Costanza would be barking on the intercom, "Machine number six, machine number six!!!"
That part was very stressful. However many hours would go by uneventfully. I had to paint the broken up wooden pins with this thick white goo which was fake wood but that didn't take long. During that summer I read the first five books in Edgar Rice Burroughs Tarzan series which were left in the drawers in the back room next to the stack of porn mags. I've always been very fond of Edgar Rice Burroughs though after book number two in every one of his series they go down hill rapidly.
So. Harry can fix stuff holographically and whack off while waiting for something to go wrong. That way the bowlers don't have to dirty their hands during their recreation time.