Adrift in Silicon Valley
Justin Barber
“So this is what it’s like out here, huh?”
“What?” I said, looking up from my phone.
He swept his hand in a circular motion, his eyes scanning the overflowing coffee shop with the lunch time rush of loyal locals. “I said, so this is what it’s like out here!”
I turned my head around to survey the rest of the room. “Yeah, the only thing people out here love more than driving their Prius to yoga class is pretending they’re too good for Starbucks.”
Kai choked on his coffee. “No not that, I mean everyone has a screen in front of them, it’s like everyone is on their own little island or something.”
“No man is an island,” I retorted. A hot wave crashed over me. I shifted in my seat. “If anything those screens are bringing people closer together.”
“Ok John Donne, if we’re not an island then what are we?”
I paused. A second literary reference would be killer here, but all I could think about was my presentation to the partners at Cooper Howard yesterday. We had landed the opportunity at such short notice that Marcin and Lana felt it best that I present without them. I stood isolated, surrounded by six suits, armed with nothing but practice and a ten-slide powerpoint. Usually Marcin’s calming cadence dictated our tempo and Lana’s eyes waited in silent encouragement if I got flustered, which usually happened around the seventh slide. In their absence I had gripped my phone so tightly I lost feeling.
“Peninsulas, I guess. We’re all connected now.”
Kai’s wry smile telegraphed the question I saw coming from miles away: “And what do you think it is that connects us?” His perpetual half smirk only broke into a full smile when he was playing games, and his favorite game was getting me to talk. He had always been the best at it too, except maybe for Lana.
“Out here, it’s the chase to landing your own little island. In the Caymans.”
“So what’s it take for a guy like me to get his own island?”
He asked half in jest but I answered earnestly. “It’s different for everyone but that’s the irony, I guess. You have to become an island to get one.”
“So money, ambition, and a lot of work.”
“Boom. You’ve only been here a couple of days and you already know the three deities of Silicon Valley’s holy trinity.”
“Does that mean I’m converted now, or do I have to confess to not owning a smartphone until two years ago?”
“Don’t ask for forgiveness, just equity. If it’s granted, Father Zuckerburg baptizes you in St. Johnny Ive’s bathtub.”
Kai sat back in his chair after a sharp, satisfactory exhale from his nose. “Hey, speaking of which, did you get baptized after yesterday’s pitch? I’ve heard they’re pretty ruthless over there. I know those guys have their own islands. How’d you even land time on their calendar?”
My stomach turned. Neither ‘lucky breaks’ nor ‘connections’ were a part of the aforementioned Valley’s Triumvir. I wasn’t about to admit that my friend from college worked the front desk at the Bay’s largest venture capitalist firm, and that she somehow managed to convince Cindy, the Scheduler of All Important Things, to substitute us in for the time slot that got dropped at the last minute. So I lied.
“It’s really not a big deal.” My tongue was slow and fat. “I’m meeting with them again in half an hour, but I mean even if it doesn’t work out I’ll be fine.”
I was in over my head with student debt and everyone on the team knew we were about two months from being jobless, which meant I was two and a half months from being homeless. And I wasn’t the only one in trouble—Marcin had two kids in school and Lana’s visa was about to expire without a sponsor.
“Well with everything you’ve gone through with those guys I hope it pays off. I can’t believe you and Lana are still doing stuff together. Remember when you two would just build Legos all day back when we were in Mom’s old house?”
“Yeah, and then you’d come in and wreck everything while we went to get snacks. Good thing I learned my lesson back then, because if I hadn’t, snacks would still be my downfall.” I reached for my jacket. “I better get going.”
“Yeah, at least tardiness is a lot more adult. Will I see you this weekend for the party?”
“Yeah, I probably won’t stay long though.”
Kai put both elbows on the table and leaned in. “Have you ever stayed long at parties?”
“At the parties worth staying long for.”
“Which by your definition is none of them.” He raised his brow. I had no grounds to object, but that didn’t keep me from opening my mouth before Kai dismissed my attempt with an anticipatory wave of his hand. “I know. Well at least stay long enough so you can finally meet Stacy. She really wanted to see you last time.” He said all of this without looking up from the coffee cup sleeve he had reduced to a tiny mountain of torn up, paper bits.
My phone rang with an unidentified number. It was my Uber driver.
“Yeah, sorry about that the—”
“The job, I know. No worries! We’ve all been there.”
I should’ve left a few minutes earlier. I stood up and finished putting on my jacket. “Tell her I’d visit more often if it meant I didn’t have to see you.”
“Good one. Is Lana going to be at the party?”
I had definitely stayed too long. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I turned to walk towards my Uber. I shouted back over my shoulder. “See you this weekend!”
I finally rejected the incoming call to stop the incessant buzzing before sliding into the backseat of the black Camry. Drake was playing on the radio. We need some really nice things.
“Good afternoon, boss!”
I applied the same strategy in avoiding faux conversations at parties as I did with loquacious Uber drivers—speak brusquely and appear preoccupied. “Hi, you have the address?”
We need some really big rings.
“Yes! Any radio station you prefer, boss?”
I got a really big team.
“Anything is fine, thanks.”
My phone buzzed. It was our group text.
Marcin: This is it!! My kids keep telling me they’re getting tired of instant ramen. You’ve got to save us.
Lana: yea no pressure but unless we get married this is the only way I get to stay here lol
Marcin: Hey now, save that for the DMs.
Lana:
Marcin: You mean like
Marcin:
Me: How do you even find this stuff
Marcin: I use this thing called Google.
Lana: because you’re old and not good at the internet like the rest of us ???
Man, what a time to be alive. You and yours versus me and mine.
Marcin: How old are you again, 13?
Me: Ohhh what a comeback. Marcins GIF game showing his age, tho
“You look like you’re from California! Are you from California? I bet you’re a boss of an engineer!”
Me: My uber driver keeps saying boss, what do I do
“What?”
Lana: i don’t see how that’s a problem
Marcin: IDK, boss.
“I gotta turn this up, boss. Big Rings baby!” Are we talkin’ teams? Are we talkin’ teams?
“Yeah, Drake’s great, listen—”
Oh, you switchin’ sides? Wanna come with me?
“I have a meeting. I’m trying to—”
“Alright, alright, loud and clear boss!”
Me: Ok he stopped no thanks to you guys
Marcin: But seriously, you’re going to kill it today.
Marcin: Like a boss.
Lana: ???
I was trying to focus on why Cooper Howard called me back today but my mind turned to memories of playing Legos with Lana. We’d build together the whole afternoon until her mom called at 5:00 to tell her it was time to go home. The imminence of the phone call put a pit in our stomachs at 4:30 that we both pretended to ignore for the next half hour. One time we even tried hiding her in the closet. Afterwards I overheard my mom laughing on the phone, “Well they’re both inventive. And loyal! I couldn’t get either one to tell me whose idea it was.” That sinking feeling I got towards the end of every play date was pretty much the same way I’d constantly felt for the past couple of months. I hadn’t been able to place it until now. Except there wasn’t a closet to hide in this time.
“Alright, boss, this is it! I’d appreciate the five star rating.” He turned the radio back up Better be comin’ with no strings and Drake drowned out my “of course, thanks.” Better be comin’ with no strings.
I stepped out of the car and fifteen minutes later I was standing alone in the same type of sterile conference room I thought existed only on TV. It was bigger than where I presented yesterday. I didn’t know what else to do, so I stuck my hands in my pockets and stared out the window as Drake looped in my head. What a time to be alive. I felt like I was in an episode of Suits. But I wasn’t wearing one; in fact I wasn’t sure if I even owned one. I guess the show I’d be in would probably be called Hoodies, or something else— the door burst open. Cooper and Howard of Cooper Howard walked in. Cooper was talking on the phone, hand on his forehead, while Howard hovered around him gesticulating responses.
“There’s no way we’re doing that for one point two billion,” Cooper said, watching as Howard repeatedly crossed his arms in and out of an X, shaking his head. Cooper held up his pointer finger and mouthed “one?” to Howard, who took a moment to think before shrugging his shoulder indifferently. “We’ll do it for one, or not at all. Tell him that.” Cooper dropped the phone from his ear and turned in my general direction, though his eyes remained on the phone now at waist level.
Unsure of what to do next, I stepped forward and extended my hand. Cooper’s brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
“I’m—”
“He’s the guy from yesterday,” Howard interrupted.
My hand remained suspended in mid-air.
Cooper turned to Howard. “Right. Did we get the—”
“I have it right here.”
“This is your offer,” Cooper said, as Howard slid a folder across the table to me. I reined in my arm and opened the folder to examine the top sheet of paper and scanned down the page until I saw a dollar sign followed by a six figure number. Hundreds of thousands wouldn’t do anything for us.
“If that’s the offer, what’s the deal?” I dropped the folder back onto the table in a dazed disappointment.
Cooper, still fixated on his phone, said, “There is no deal. That’s your starting salary.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t—”
Howard jumped in again with his palm outstretched. “We have five meetings lined up tomorrow with better teams building the same product, only better than yours. You’re one month away from running out of time, two months if you’re lucky. And no one’s buying what you’re selling or who you’d be coming with.”
“Then what are you buying?” I looked up to see Cooper showing Howard whatever he had been looking at on his phone.
“Is he really making us do this?” Cooper looked at me directly for the first time. “Your potential! What else?”
“What about the rest of my team?”
“As Cooper said, your potential!”
My phone vibrated as I clutched it in my pocket. I wasn’t sure if it was a text or if I had accidentally squeezed the power button.
“Can I have some time to think it over?”
The two men looked at each other. Howard frowned and gave a single nod before they pivoted and began walking out the door. Cooper stopped in his tracks and turned half way back around towards me. “But we’ll be in the next room with the other candidate in ten minutes. And I’m pretty sure she’ll sign.”
Howard held the door open for Cooper before following him out. The door was almost completely shut before Howard poked his head back into the open crack. “You can sink or you can swim. Your choice!”
The door slammed shut. I cautiously lowered myself into the seat in front of me. The choice wasn’t between sinking or swimming. It was between drowning or being rescued. Either way, I’d still be alone at sea.
~
Born and raised in Tokyo, Japan—but now splitting time between Atlanta and San Francisco—Justin Barber can be found working at Google and writing from home. He recently published a book through Kickstarter which began as an email newsletter. He can be found online at jstnbrbr.com and @jstnbrbr
