A Successful San Francisco Startup

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  • 3885 words
  • Content and trigger warnings: violence, murder, blood
  • postscript

“Got it!” Larry called out from his desk two rows behind me. “Fixed BUG-2202 guys. Someone wasn’t closing database connections properly.” He glanced my way and gave me a knowing smirk. “I’ll push this out to production now. Our customers won’t have any issues from here on out.”

“Nice work, Lar!” Someone called out and gave Larry a high five.

I didn’t join in the congratulations. After seeing that smirk on his face, I had to check. I pulled down his code and ran his changes through version control. Sure enough, the blame tool proved that his changes corrected my mistakes. I caused a bug that forced our app to slow to a crawl. The entire engineering team, including me, was scrambling all morning trying to figure what was wrong and it was all my fault. I groaned as I realized I caused yet another issue for our company.

“Sorry everyone, that was my fault,” I yelled over my shoulder. “Won’t happen again, promise!”

I sunk down as I heard muttering behind me, followed by laughter. 

I’d been living in San Francisco for three weeks since moving from Toronto, Canada, living my dream working as a software engineer for a tech startup. I was surrounded by the smartest people I’d ever met working on interesting problems. On top of that, the company perks were unbelievable: daily catered lunches, free Ubers and Lyfts, a snack room, booze — they spoiled us rotten. And the pay! I never dreamed of making this much money straight out of University.

But I wasn’t fitting in at all. The laughter from my coworkers was a stinging reminder that I wasn’t one of them yet. I felt like I couldn’t keep up with them. Obviously, considering the bug I caused.

“Don’t sweat it, my dude. Shit happens,” Larry walked over to my desk, chewing on a chocolate bar. 

“I- I didn’t mean it. How about I make up for it, Lar? I’ll write some unit tests now to catch bugs like this. What do you think?”

“Like I said, don’t sweat it, FNG. Shit happens.”

I frowned. He liked to call everyone my dude and my guy, even the women, but this was the first time I heard him call someone FNG.

“Hey Larry, what does FNG mean?”

Larry chewed on his chocolate bar some more and then grinned at me.

“Fucking New Guy, my guy!” He winked and swaggered back to his desk. I forced a smile back and looked around as my coworkers finished laughing at my expense. I felt the back of my neck and ears burn as they flushed from embarrassment. I couldn’t handle it. I got up from my desk and made my way to the snack room.

Shelves filled with chocolate bars, chips and candies lined one wall of the snack room, while another held shelves full of healthy options: assorted dried fruits, nuts, trail mixes and granola bars. At the end of the room were multiple kegs of beer, kombucha and even wine. I didn’t even know wine came in kegs! Two weeks ago at orientation, I couldn’t believe we had a whole room for snacks. When I asked where the cash register was, my recruiter laughed: “You can have any of these any time. They’re for employees of the company. After all, we can’t change the world if our engineers are hungry!”

I grabbed a bag of Doritos and aimlessly walked around the office. I didn’t want to get back to my desk, not while my team was still laughing at my mistake. I worried that my lackluster performance in my first month here would get me fired. I didn’t want to lose this. Not after seeing what it was like here.

“Hey there, what can I get ya?”

Startled out of my thoughts, I looked up at our office barista standing behind the coffee bar. Did I mention our company employed a full-time barista?

“Oh hey Steph. Didn’t realize I walked over here.”

“Well, now that you’re here, how about a coffee?”

I smiled. 

“That sounds great, actually. Can you get me a caramel latte?”

“Sure thing!” She started prepping my drink and I stepped to the side, munching on Doritos. 

“I heard about this morning,” I heard a familiar voice from behind me. I turned and the blood rushed back to my face causing my ears to burn again.

“Oh, h-hey Barr. Didn’t see you there.”

Barr, my manager, stared back at me.

“Why don’t you come meet me once you get your coffee.” He walked to a corner of the cafe, where wooden privacy booths were stationed. These booths and the various conference rooms were the only places people could actually close a door and be away from prying eyes.

“Caramel latte!” Steph called out.

“Maybe I should have ordered an Irish coffee. Probably gonna need something with a kick.”

“Oh, want me to make it for you then?”

“Nah, Barr’s waiting. Thanks, though.”

“You gonna be okay? Sounds like you had a rough morning.”

“I think I’ll be okay. I caused an issue but Larry fixed it.”

“Yikes. Bet he’s gonna rub it in your face, too.”

“I... can handle Larry. Barr, though,” I grimaced.

“Oh yeah. I have a rough manager at my other job. Don’t worry, stroke their ego a bit and they’ll back off.” She winked.

I paused.

“You have a second job, Steph?”

“Yeah, I work part time at the Target on 4th. Sometimes I DoorDash when I need a little extra.”

“Damn, that’s impressive, Steph.”

She shrugged, prepping another drink for another of my colleagues.

“Gotta pay the bills here somehow! It’s crazy expensive here.”

I nodded, not knowing how to respond. 

“Well… thanks for the coffee.” 

I walked over to Barr’s privacy booth. Before I finished shutting the glass door behind me, Barr spoke immediately.

“Heard about that bug you caused this morning. What happened?”

“Sorry Barr. I- I don’t know how this slipped through. It won’t happen again I promis-”

“It won’t. Larry’s writing new unit tests to prevent these sloppy mistakes from getting into production again.”

Fucking. Larry.

“Oh. But I was going to write those, Barr-”

“Yep. But Larry’s got it. I want to talk about you though.”

Our resident savant had to clean up my mess. I took a deep breath. My ears still burned.

“Let’s be honest,” Barr began. “You’re not really fitting in here, are you?”

I shook my head.

“I get it. You had to move across the border and across three time zones. But it’s been almost a month. We were expecting big things from you. We’re expecting big things from ourselves, frankly. I mean, we’re not here to make silly games on the app store. We’re going to revolutionize the industry. We’re going to change the world. Are you with us?”

There it was again. We’re going to change the world. The self-aggrandizing was getting irritating. I bit my lip.

“I know, Barr. I’m with you. And I don’t want to lose any of this,” I gestured around me. “I thought I could keep up with the team but there’s just so much talent here in the Bay Area.”

Barr gave me a searching look.

“Talent alone isn’t enough to make it. Maybe you just need to get to know the team some more. There’s going to be a company all-hands just before Happy Hour starts.”

He continued to stare. 

“You usually skip Happy Hour, right?”

I nodded.

“Maybe you should stay for this one. Your entire team’s gonna be there. Our CEO and some of the investors will be here too. You’ll see how tech in the Bay Area really works.”

Message received. This wasn’t a request.

I heard Barr's phone buzz. He peeked at it briefly, read over the notification, and got up.

"I'll see you tonight," he said and he left the booth.

I spent the rest of the day quietly at my desk, attempting to make up for the bug I caused. I was determined to get as much work done as possible because I knew what that talk in the booth meant. I needed to prove I belonged here. One more mistake, and I’ll lose my six-figure salary, the free snacks, catered food, onsite barista and free Ubers.

Before I knew it, a Steve Aoki track blared from the cafe and lights dimmed around me: it was 6pm. Our all-hands was about to start. I walked to the cafeteria where the usual lunch tables were replaced with cocktail tables. U-shaped sofas lined the walls and our coffee station had become a full bar manned by two bow-tie wearing bartenders. In the span of an hour, our diligent kitchen staff turned our cafeteria into a mini lounge, ready for Happy Hour.

I made my way to the bar and ordered a whiskey sour. Some people sat on the sofas, but most lingered around the bar. I stood at the corner and sipped my drink. The music faded and our CEO, Timothy Myer, stepped onto a raised platform at the front.

“Good evening everyone!” he said into the microphone with a smile.

Everyone applauded.

“I’m gonna keep this all-hands short, because I’m excited for the surprise I have for you guys afterwards.”

A murmur swept through the crowd.

“Calm down, calm down, we gotta get through this first! Throw the slides up.”

Myer pressed his clicker and talked through some sales figures.

“Overall, we’re doing pretty good! I mean, we’re still burning through our cash like crazy.” A chuckle made its rounds in the crowd. “But I’m confident that we just need to get a stranglehold on the market.”

He continued to talk about sales figures and burn down charts.

“Alright, that’s enough outta me. And before we kick off Happy Hour, here’s that surprise I promised all of you!”

The office staff began handing out bags to all the employees. I opened mine, and saw a black Patagonia jacket embroidered with our company logo. I put it back in. I heard chatter around me as everyone opened their bags excitedly and tried them on.

“Alright folks, you know what to do! Put them on and let’s get Happy Hour started!”

Myer jumped off the stage and joined the crowd. This is where I would usually whip out my phone and call an Uber, but I remembered what Barr told me. Bracing myself, I walked over to my team.

“Hey FNG, what’s going on, my dude?” said Larry.

“Hey Larry. What’d you think of the all-hands? Looks like we’re really burning through our cash.” 

“Fuck the all-hands. Check out these sweet jackets. You should really put ‘em on.”

I looked around and my entire team was already wearing our new swag. I stood in the middle of a sea of wealthy and privileged tech workers wearing the same three hundred dollar jacket.

I looked to the other side of the room. The wait and kitchen staff stood in their same clothes. They stood out in the sea of black.

“You should really put that on,” Barr said, as he walked over. “You did want to fit in here, right?”

He nodded at my bag.

I took it out of its packaging. Touching the fabric, I felt a shock run up my hand. Odd. Static? I put it on, zipped it up, and felt a pop go off in my ears. A slight dizziness came over me and I stumbled forward, my heart racing.

“Alright everyone, hope you’re enjoying the night. Everyone got a drink in their hand?” Timothy Myer was back on the stage.

A single “yeah!” erupted from the crowd, followed by a collective chuckle.

“Hah, okay okay. Let’s get our investors up here.”

Still feeling the shock from earlier, I looked at Barr. 

“Hey, what’s going on? What’s with these jackets?” I asked. I shook my head to snap myself out of the dizziness.

“The shock?”

I nodded.

“Protection spell.”

“Wh...what? Did you say, spell?”

“Just watch,” Barr took a sip, smiling mischievously. “You need to see how tech in the Bay really works if you wanna fit in here. Go refill your drink while they set up.”

I looked around for a waiter but as my eyes scanned through the crowd, I saw that some faces blurred while others remained focused and sharp. I could see everyone wearing the black jackets clearly. But the wait staff looked… wrong. What the hell? I could see the outlines of their bodies in the crowd, but it was as if my eyes kept sliding over their faces, refusing to focus.

“Alright, let’s get this done. I have to catch a flight in an hour and the traffic on The 101 is gonna be hell.”

I looked up at the stage and saw Myer and our investors putting on hooded red robes on top of their matching black jackets.

Dormi, dormi, adtende, obedi”

He boomed into the mic.

Dormi, dormi, adtende, obedi. Humm.

A low baritone hum swept through the room. I heard a clattering and glass shattering as all of the wait staff suddenly dropped their serving trays and stood upright.

“Barr, what the hell is going on?”

They continued to stand, first still as stone, then swayed to the hum. They were in some sort of trance. I still couldn’t focus on their faces but they stared up at the stage. I looked over at everyone else wearing our new black jackets. They were completely fine, standing around chatting with each other sipping their drinks. Some pointed at the wait staff and laughed.

“Barr?”

Barr looked me over with a pensive stare.

“Have you ever wondered,” he said after a beat, “how companies like us survive here?”

“Humm,” the low humming sound continued from the stage.

I shook my head, not knowing how to respond.

“We burn cash like crazy: catered daily lunches, snack rooms, kegs, free transportation. And for what? Writing a couple of if statements in whatever programming language is in fashion?”

“Well, I mean we’re funded right? Investors-”

“Yeah. And do you think they’ll ever get a return on this,” he gestured around him and made air quotes, “investment?

“It… yeah, that doesn’t seem sustainable. Especially if there are a bunch of us doing it. I mean, the startup down the street raised ten million alone and all they do is make a meditation app.”

“Hah, there we are! I knew you were smart,” Barr grinned at me. “You’re right of course. This could come crashing down. It should come crashing down. But it doesn’t. Why?”

I didn’t respond. I noticed a crowd of our wait staff slowly form a neat line leading to the stage. Their faces remained blurred.

“Barr, what’s wrong with the waiters? Why are they acting like that? Why can’t I see their faces?”

“We just throw the right people at the right problem,” Barr ignored my question and gestured to the stage.

Myer took one of our cleaning staff by the hand and led them up while I squinted and tried to concentrate on their face, trying to see who it was.

“Thank you for all your hard work,” Myer said to the waiter. They didn’t respond, but continued to sway to the humming. Then, Timothy Myer pulled out a knife and slit their throat.

I screamed.

“We offer your life’s labour and precious blood in exchange for our life of luxury and excess,” Myer concluded.

Still screaming, I turned my head away from the scene. I felt bile starting its climb up my throat. My hands dropped to my knees and I heard myself gagging. I could barely support my weight.  

“Barr! Barr what the fuck—”

“Easy now! Easy, we don’t want you making a mess! After all, we just sacrificed one of our cleaners,” Barr ribbed Larry and they laughed.

“What’s so fucking funny? You just murdered someone!”

Sacrificed.”

“What?” I said, as I slowly stood up.

“We sacrificed them,” Barr placed his hands on my shoulders and forced me to turn around and face the stage. As he did, the stage dimmed darker and darker.

Hummm.

The humming sound grew louder.

HUMMM.

As it crescendoed, a dark shadow grew on the stage. From the darkness, a rotting arm reached out. Sagging bits of skin flaked off the long arm as it reached toward the worker on the stage, still bleeding. The hand at the end of the arm was more bone than skin and large enough to grasp the dying waiter. It wrapped its long fingers around its offering and pulled the body into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood.

“Run! What are you doing, get the fuck out of there!” I screamed at the line of waiters. No one moved. Meanwhile, I heard my teammates laughing at me. Again.

“Sleepwalk spell, FNG. They can’t hear you. Come on my dude, haven’t you figured that out yet?” Larry chuckled at me.

Myer ignored my outburst and handed his knife to the company’s investors. One by one, they repeated the gruesome act muttering the hypnotizing spell at our wait staff. Giant arms continued to grow out of gaping dark holes in the walls, on the ground and even hanging from the ceiling as they eagerly snatched their offerings.

Barr and Larry made their way toward me.

“Talent alone won’t get you far here,” Barr said as I stared at the bloody spectacle. “You need to understand what it takes to keep things running, what it takes to be successful. You need to know what it costs to have everything.” He pulled out a knife and handed it to Larry, who accepted it eagerly.

“Watch and learn, my guy!” he said, as he rushed to the stage.

He picked out one of the members of our kitchen staff. Like the others in the line, they swayed in rhythm with the hum.

“We offer your life’s labour and precious blood,” Larry said, as he slit their throat. An arm hanging from the ceiling grabbed them immediately. Satisfied, Larry sauntered his way back to Barr and me.

“This will ensure I keep crushing it at work, FNG. Perfect code. No bugs. You can too, you know. You can turn it all around tonight.”

Larry handed me the knife.

I stared at it. My hands trembled.

“Or, you can pack your bags and kiss your cushy tech job goodbye,” Barr gave me his ultimatum. 

I looked down at the knife in front of me and I felt my stomach churn.

Then I threw up.

“Ohhh! We got a hurler over here!” Larry called out and the crowd of black jackets roared with laughter.

I couldn’t handle it anymore. It was all a joke to them.

So I ran.

I ran down the hallway, opened an emergency exit door, and didn’t stop until I’d gone down six flights of stairs. I flung open the exit door and was suddenly surrounded by the din of San Francisco traffic. I kept running, and somehow, made it back to my apartment building. Out of breath, I looked around me and saw vague outlines of people. It was just like before. Their faces were blurred and hazy. But some people I could see clearly and I noticed they wore hoodies or backpacks with their company logos embroidered on them: obviously tech workers, like me. I looked down at my own jacket. Protection spell? It had to be more than that. I ripped the damned thing off of me.

The same shock ran through my body and everyone’s faces instantly shifted into focus. I felt bile rising up again. Before I threw up on the street, I rushed into my apartment building.

***

I didn’t go to work the next day and I got a Slack DM from Barr:

I get it. You need some time to process this. Take today off. Take next week too if you need it. But it’s your last chance at the next Happy Hour.

I didn’t respond.

For the next two days, I stayed in the same spot, barely moving. I survived on food delivery. I ordered some sushi and scrolled through Instagram as I waited. I saw a comment from an old university friend on a selfie I took on the Golden Gate bridge: “You made it! I’m jealous!” And one from my mom: “So proud of you!”

I thought about the horror I witnessed during Happy Hour. I could still smell that faint aroma of iron that blood leaves behind. I remembered how hard it was to concentrate on the wait staff, how hard it was just to notice them. And then I got curious. I put the black jacket back on and when I felt the familiar shock and pop in my ears, I went to my mom’s Instagram profile. 

Just as I feared, I couldn’t see my mom’s face.

The door to my apartment rang letting me know that my food had arrived. I opened it and heard, “I have your sushi here - oh hey!” The person called out as if they knew me. Squinting and concentrating on their face, I heard her say, “wow, you drunk or something? Need me to make you another caramel latte?”

“Steph?”

“Yeah, Steph, your favourite barista?”

I could barely see her. Then I remembered, I still had my company jacket on.

“Sorry Steph, I was a million miles away.”

“Yeah, I’ll say. What a coincidence, huh?”

“What is?”

“A coincidence that I ended up being your DoorDasher, duh! Better tip me well!” she teased.

“Oh! Ha ha.” I gave her a nervous chuckle. “You bet.”

“Haven’t seen you at work the past couple of days. Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah. Just going through some things.”

“Ah. Was it the talk you had with Barr? Was it bad?”

“You can say that.”

“Well, don’t worry. I know you’ll fit in just fine and before you know it, you’ll be another one of the company’s rockstar engineers.”

“Thanks Steph. That means a lot to me.”

“No problem.”

She turned to go but before she did, I called out to her.

“Hey Steph, can I ask you something?”

She turned around and asked, “What’s up?”

“If you had the opportunity, would you take the kind of job I have?”

She took a moment to answer.

“Honestly, I’d do whatever it took to have what you have.”

I grimaced and she continued.

“You guys… basically run this town. If you make it here, well, everything is handed to you isn’t it? Free transit, food, a killer salary. Be honest with me, do you even know how much the fare is on the BART?”

I shook my head.

“Didn’t think so,” she paused, thinking.

“Yeah. I’d do anything to have what you have.”

I nodded my head slowly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to vent like that. Didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I mean at least I have a cool job. Not as cool as yours, sure, but I get some perks being your barista.” She chuckled a bit.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually.”

I took a deep breath.

Dormi, dormi, adtende, obedi.”

She froze in place.

“I’m so sorry, Steph.”

She didn’t respond as I led her inside.

“Thank you for all your hard work.”