Microserfs

17)

Barry:

“Frankly, we’re not totally convinced you have a crew that can market your product, that is, should it even make it past beta.”

18)

Me:

(Detached metaphysical perspective: as we speak, the Stanford Linear Accelerator, a quarter of a mile south, running underneath the Mensa Freeway, is quietly blowing up atoms into quarks and bosons and leptons and Fruity Pebbles.) “Hmmm.”

19)

Ethan:

“Frankly,” (Oooh — everybody’s trying to compete with each other through overuse of the word frank) “I have brought four products to market myself. Four very successful products. (Unspoken sentiment hangs in the air like dying fart: “Yeah, but your companies all tanked within a year.”) “Our staff is so dedicated to the project they are working without pay until an alpha version is ready.”

20)

Me:

(Inside thought balloon above my head as Ethan looks at me and gave me this big You’re- fucked-and-you-have-no-choice smile, in front of all these suits): “What do you mean working without pay?”

21)

Me:

(Out loud)

“We have to have a product that works first, and we can take care of the business side, with your help …” (The one thing I say and it’s obsequious and stupid. Q: Do I feel like a liability? A: Yes.)

22)

Hermes Tie:

“We’d like to help you … mwah mwah mwah (Charlie Brown’s Teacher noise) … no infrastructure … mwah mwah mwah … no corporate plan for growth … mwah mwah mwah.…” (Pull trap door)

23)

Rosemary’s Baby:

(Parting shot to me, in confidence, after the others have left — like he’s really helping us out as he discreetly escorts me toward the Mission oak doorway): “You probably wouldn’t want to work for a VC-funded firm because in the end they’ll just crack the whip and force you to ship, even if it’s not entirely full-featured.”

24)

Suits:

(I paraphrase)

“Please fuck off and die.”

25)

Ethan:

“Dinner, dance, and a kiss at the door. So much for meeting number 216. Well, pal, there’s a saying down in these parts: twenty-four hours heals all wounds.”

26)

FIN

I asked Ethan in the Ferrari on the way back to the office, “What do you mean we’re working without pay?” and he said, “Well, technically, yes.”

I flipped out: “Yes?!”

Then he said, “Well, technically, no”

“Ethan, what the fuck is going on?” I asked.

“Don’t be so petty bourgeois, Dan. Look at the big picture.”

The Ferrari passed about eight cars in one fell swoop. I didn’t want to look petty. “I’m not petty, Ethan, “I said.

“And I am?”

“That’s not the issue.”

“Stop being so linear about money. Be horizontal. It’s all cool.”

I asked Mom what she thought of Karla and she said she thought she was “delightful.” Sounded a bit forced.

No flu symptoms yet.

WEDNESDAY

Lunch today.

Karla was draggy with the flu, but she forced herself to come. She, Mom, and I went to lunch at the Empire Grill and Tap Room. As we entered, there were two seeing-eye dogs and two blind masters standing near to each other. Within seconds, Mom was down on the floor chatting with the dogs. She then interrogated the dogs’ owners: “Do you two hang around together a lot? Do your dogs get to visit each other? They would make good company for each other, you know.” (My mother the matchmaker.)

The two owners laughed and said, “I should think so — we’re married.”

Mom exclaimed, “Oh — how wonderful — they can discuss their jobs with each other!” (Mom’s a true Silicon Valley girl — she grew up here, down in Sunnyvale.) “Oh my, you must meet Misty—” and she raced out to the car to fetch Misty, and the three dogs were soon sniffing each other.

I was aching to get to lunch, but Mom and the two blind people were deep in DogTalk. I went out to Mac’s and bought a copy of the San Jose Mercury News. When I returned they were still there, laughing. They exchanged cards, and afterward I asked Mom what they were laughing about, and she said, “We