Looking Back

A Retrospective

The Beginning - Its all downhill from here

Here now will be chronicled my times at a certain software-as-a-service company, hereafter known as “The Company”, and the myriad characters who passed through its hallowed halls, myself included. What follows will be a rough recollection of the times and tribulations spent working at the little start-up that could. There will be laughs, there will be tears (mainly my own), but above all else, there will be truth. This will be a long winded walk down a memory lane of hopeful beginnings, maddening frustrations, sacrifices, gains, losses, and the belief that water was really just over that next dune. Though I write this without the benefit of an intended, or even interested, audience, I hope this may act as a cautionary tale to all young, capable, able bodied software developers out there, who feel that by the simple addition of their blood sweat and tears, success may be had. Without further fanfare, dear reader, let us begin this tale like any good tale should begin... The titular Beginning

My job at The Old Company ended abruptly. While that is a tale for another day (indeed, what a tale it is), all you need to know is that I was enjoying the benefits of the governments wonderful unemployment program for the period of about a month. Life was good. But like any able bodied young man, boredom slowly crept in. There is only so many times your roomates can come home asking how much of their tax money you spent today before you realize all good things must come to an end. So, putting my information “out there”, i was soon in touch with a recruiter. An affable gentleman, he was the type of man you’d want to go out and have a night of cocaine fueled upper white class mayhem with. He quickly set me up with who I'll refer to as SleepyTown, a company for which I would only be temporarily employed. As the name implies, this job was hardly the pinnacle of day-to-day excitement that The Old Company had made me believe was the norm. There were reams of documentation, actual QA testing, and 6 of us crammed into a room built for 3. But the glamor of this position was lost upon me. Although I was ready to sink my teeth into something of substance, all I was handed were prototypes that would never see the light of day, followed by QA testing that I had no interest in doing. Like any good young developer, I made sure to fill my time well. Mostly Craigslist.

And (it’s a horrible habit to start your sentences with “and”, by the way) thats when I found it - The Company was hiring. And (there it is again) not just any company, one a quarter mile from my home. No more commute? A leisurely stroll to work at my own pace? I had to go for it. I submitted my resume with a politely worded introduction, and went back to work (which was finding the next outrageous racist remark in Rants and Raves). Before I even made it to the train that day, my phone was ringing. It was a man who would one day come to be my Boss, but today he was just a simple guy working for a simple company, looking for someone to come on and handle some work developing custom applications for their clients. We set up an interview that night, and I figured now was as good a time as any to start learning the walk to their offices.

When I arrived, my Boss had missed 2 of my calls. There was a baseball game on, you see, and there was a very important business meeting taking place next to a case of beers, I would later have come to find out. When he did call me back, he assured me he was still interested in the interview, and to come right on by. Which is exactly what I did.

As I made my way into the office, I was greeted by a Polite Blonde woman, dutifully manning the phones. “Is ‘My Future Boss’ in?” I asked, protecting his real name from the scrutiny of the Internet. “One second...” she replied, picking up a phone and sharing the knowledge that some random guy with a bad haircut and a stupid green shirt (my words, not hers) was here. She instructed me to wait in the conference room, with which I complied. To say it was a conference room would belie the amount of ongoing construction at hand. Part of a wall was missing, but there was no cause for alarm - a rogue piece of drywall was leaning near it. There were buckets of paint, color swatches, and pamphlets. “Must be a new office.”, I thought to myself.

A minute went by. Maybe two. This was nothing new, interviews always involve a serious amount of waiting. The door creaked open, and in hulked a large, bald headed, giant of a man. He was 6 foot 6 if he was a an inch, and he was very clearly bleeding from his head. I would much later come to find out it was due to his antics while under the influence of pills.

This was not my Boss. To give an accurate description of who this man was would require inventing an entirely new term for a position within a corporate structure that not many people may realize is possible to obtain. So here it is: Executive Chief Asshole. Extending a large, meaty hand, ECA welcomed me and instructed me the man-who-would-be-Boss would be meeting with me shortly. Before asking me any questions, ECA had a bold, important, and dare I say, lifetime-defining statement for me to hear, that was, to hear him tell it, The Companys’ modus operandi: Databases are bad.

Now let me pause right here and illustrate what went on in my head as those words crossed my ears. At The Old Company, I had spent 3 years administering a database, writing sql, developing data models, and even going so far as to get an actual certification of some sort to benefit all this wonderful responsibility. So hearing these words, to be blunt, hit me like a plastic shopping bag full of piss to the face. It was a mix of horror at the situation, repulsion at the perpetrator, anger at the sheer audacity, and pure bewilderment at what the fuck just happened. He continued (and I paraphrase...):

“They just don’t do what we need them to, you know?”
“Ok” I have no idea what you’re saying. I am suspicious of this entire thing being a trap of some kind
“They don’t tell you where people are”
Silence. I’m just letting him get to the point. 2 sentences in and I have this man pegged for sales. Or some kind of transient who lives in this construction site of a conference room. There is no way he is in anyway involved in anything technical
“So what we have is a database that can take a cellphone number, and show you where that person was when they called you.”
“Really, you guys build that kind of software?” That does sound cool, despite the fact I’m sure you’re not telling me the real story
“Yea”
Just then, a knock. The Polite Blonde stands in the doorway and begins to ask ECA something about house paint.
What the hell? What are they talking about... shes clearly talking about a client, but whats with all this paint stuff?
“Do you think next time you could just remember the phone script? We go over it for a reason, and if you can’t remember it, then we have a problem. So just dont come to me with all these little problems, ok?”
Wow that seemed a little harsh, but hey, for all I know it could be the 10th time today shes done something wrong... I really shouldn't try to judge a situation I'm not familiar with...
She leaves and shuts the door.

ECA looks after her a second too long, before turning to me and remarking “Hot piece of ass, huh?”

 

Do you have any idea what that guy just said to me?

I did my best to let that comment drop to the floor. I believe I stuttered something to the effect of “Sure” before doing my best to segue back to the actual interview. Being confronted with blatant sexism within the first few minutes of meeting someone is always a pleasure. It lets you know right off the bat who you’re dealing with. Bleeding from the head, needlessly aggressive, brazenly sexist... This guy was a gem, alright.

It was about the time I used the phrase “DLL” that the Executive Chief Asshole realized he had exhausted his purpose as a time-killer for my Boss. He excused himself to find the man I should have been talking to all along, and another short time later, in walks my Boss. We shake hands and introduce ourselves. Retaking my seat, I looked him square in the eyes and uttered the phrase that adorns the title bar of this post.

2 Months later I would come to find out the primary reason I was hired was because the first words out of my mouth were calling ECA out on his bullshit. That, and my resume surprisingly put to shame the stack my Boss had gone through, but thats more a commentary on the sad state of affairs in the development community than my own personal prowess - At the time, my resume barely had a notch to brag about. I must have made a good impression in my otherwise unremarkable interview, because within 2 days, I had a job offer. I was going to wake up from my brief yet boring slumber at SleepyTown. It was music to my ears.

Before I’d even show up for my first day of work, ECA had been fired. When I asked why, I was met with nervous laughter, furtive glances, and cautious stuttering. The best I could get was "It just wasn't working out." Thinking back to the bleeding skull and the sexual hostility, this was not a huge surprise, although it was a little jarring - Not even a month had gone by, and already someone was let go... These guys meant business, or so it would seem.

Despite his lack of direct employment, this did not stop us from sharing an office with ECA and his 2nd company, a business selling a house paint. This wasn't any normal house paint, mind you, this was a special type of paint that would stay on for over 25 years without chipping, fading or peeling. It was a two-part process containing an Elastopolymer... you know what? The Polite Blonde tells it so much better, I'd hate to steal her thunder. In the first year of employment, I must have have overheard her repeat the line more than a thousand times. So if you’re really curious about what was in the product, hunt her down and ask her. This is my story, and it isn’t about paint.

Speaking of that first day, which is where I learned of ECAs removal from active duty, it was quite the impressive affair. This would be the first time I was meeting just about everyone at the company, who all continue the pattern of having their own clever nicknames: The Godfather, The CEO, New Sales, Old Sales, The Wizard, and my Boss. These titles not only explain what these people were to The Company, but also who they were in general. The Godfather was a major player in a worldwide investment firm, the CEO practically had the words “Startup Guy” written on his shirt, New Sales and Old Sales looked the part - New, the spitting image of a Kennedy nephew, Old with the look of a man who had lived Glengary-Glenross. The Wizard is a man who escapes simple explanations, and as a character who made it to the final chapter, his role will be clear in time. For now, it will suffice to say that he was in charge of Marketing and Branding. Then there was my Boss - in addition to being the CTO, he was also the primary head of development, alongside the CEO. These men, these Captains of Industry, invited me to a very exclusive meeting in an impressive building downtown that bore the name of a very large bank. Inside of this monolith to finance was an entire floor dedicated to hosting private meetings for the cities business elite.

To say this place was white as shit is an understatement. This affair was so white, a black guy offered to take my coat.

And (keeping count?) these men sat me down, and allowed me to be a fly on the wall of what would be the foundation of the next 4 years of my life. There was a product. How would it be sold? For what price? In which markets? Who were the key demographics? Whats the best way to make people who realize they needed it? And (there I go again) throughout all of this, not once did I hear any concrete details on the subject of the product itself. It was as though we had these magical black boxes, boxes that could produce dreams! And (three times in one paragraph) it was our purpose to figure out how to sell these boxes. It didn’t matter what was inside of it, it was the fact that it made your life better that mattered. How do we convey how much better your life will be with our product?

After the meeting, we sat at a bar, conveniently located 5 steps from the meeting rooms. It was here that I got my first real face time with The Godfather. A pleasant yet serious demeanor sat comfortably upon his shoulders. He seemed like the kind of guy who could keep the rapt attention of the room with a hilarious tale about prostitutes, before excusing himself to go buy and sell a mans life. He sat down with me, and proceeded to tell me that he was a little unsure of my being hired without his consultation. He then asked me a single question, for the purpose of vetting my worth.

“Hows your night game, kid? Cus we like to drink.”

His candor put me at ease, and so I replied “You know, I don’t think that will be a problem, sir”, as I killed my first drink.

Several vodka tonics, mint juleps, and rum-and-cokes later, the team dispersed. Despite still not having a clear idea of what was going on, I felt good. Not just vodka-good, mind you. Generally good about my situation. Confusing lack of direct detail aside, I’m in on the ground floor with a bunch of guys who seem like they know what they’re doing... This could be a huge step in my career... I hope I don’t screw this up.

4 years later, and I can only look back at that trepidation with laughter. I had no idea about the shit storm that was heading my way...

 

Hell is other people

The following months were spent slaving in abject hell, at the mercy of one of the most insufferable bastards I've had the displeasure of dealing with in my entire life. Thankfully, this person was not the Boss, however he did like to think of himself as one. This was a walking, talking piece of human taint, who I'll lovingly refer to as such. Taintboy was the emissary from a client of ours, who was the project manager for an online ordering system they had requested. Project Mis-Manager was a more apt title (This is the point where, if I were telling the story in person, that I’d sarcastically remark “Heyooooooooo!” and go for a high five). 

Throughout this project, only the loosest of requirements were ever given, and all attempts at getting better information was met with an ignorance of a unbelievably staggering level. Taintboy would sneak up behind me while I was working and just watch me for minutes at a time. He would send me 40 emails a day, none of which contained anything of merit. It got the point where the Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl...

Oh, that’s right. I haven’t yet introduced her, have I?

Pregnant Girl was the Polite Blondes cohort in general office management and all things secreterial. She kept books, She wrangled client issues, and she even dabbled in a little dietary management work - During one of his many attempts at weight loss, PG tried to get the Executive Chief Asshole to eat Lean Cuisine meals. This hilarious episode is best summed up in the following set of quotes:

“Ok, I finished it. Now what?” asked a frustrated ECA.
“Thats it. You’re done eating for now.” Pregnant Girl replied
“...No. Where is the rest of it.”
“I’m serious, this is the amount normal person would eat.”
“...Go get me 3 more.”

Pro Tip - Be nice (not creepy) to the girls who run the office. This can be a difficult concept to people who aren’t able to hold genuine friendships with the opposite sex. However, throughout all of the pain and hard times, it was definitely the women in that office that were always there to offer me whatever support they could, which given the differing nature of our jobs, was usually just someone to commiserate with. Even now, after the dust has settled and the fallout spread across the land, they’re the number one proponents of my writing this memoir, encouraging me to keep at it, and offering whatever advice they can. You really can’t trade that kind of support for anything in the world. Additionally, being on the good side of the girls who are the gatekeepers to the WB Mason order form has it’s own set of benefits... Not to brag, but I could have had any desk organizer under the sun. Provided it was within budgetary constraints.

Hilarious aside about PG; Shes about 5 feet tall standing in heels, and would weigh 100 pounds if she were holding a bag of sand. When she was maybe 4 months into her pregnancy (which was, to be truthful, several years after this initial point in our story), she looked ready to burst. Picture the most pregnant you could ever imagine someone looking. She was it for me. Being the idiotic male that I am, I allowed the following correspondence to take place:

“Wow, you must be ready to go soon, huh?”, I said eyeballing the 10 gallon drum attached to her stomach.
“No...Actually I have like 5 months left... but thanks....” She said, rethinking her friendship with me.

To this day, she still wont let me live it down. I say its her own fault for being so small. I have, however, learned my lesson - Don’t comment on the status of a woman's pregnancy unless you enjoy the taste of shoe polish. But I’ve digressed long enough... back to the tale at hand.

Where was I? Right... deflecting Taintboy.

Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl would run interference for me, deflecting or otherwise stalling Taintboy from surprising me. They would stop him on his way to my cube to make idle chitchat, speaking loudly enough to let me know who was in the office. They would do whatever little they could to prevent him from catching me off gaurd with a “Hey, guy...”. They appointed themselves gaurdians of the gate, and I would forever thank them for it.

There is a small chance, however, they saw a strategic reason to stay on my good side. You see, working nearby them, I couldn’t help but overhear all of their conversations. From the good to the bad to the ugly, I could pretty much hear it all. One day near the beginning of my employ, I just couldn’t take it any more, and I had to chime in on one of their conversations. I could almost feel them freeze up as they realized everything they said was overheard by the New Guy. “How much of our conversations can you really hear?” Polite Blonde asked, nervously. Her worst fears were confirmed when I confided in her “You really shouldn’t be emailing that married man, PB”. If Pregnant Girl were pregnant at that time, she probably would’ve miscarried from laughing so hard. Good Times.

Anyways... Back to the main narrative

For months of my life I worked 15 hour days. Saturdays and Sundays, early mornings to well past midnights. I was responsible for every single facet of this system - Design, Back end, Front end, Payments, and being the sole point of contact for support and QA. It was the first application I had ever developed for the web. I knew how to build the infrastructure, but I had no formal experience in designing or implementing a proper front end. I had told them at our first meeting I could build it, but I wasn’t going to design them anything for the front end- they needed to have a guy to do that. “Not a problem, we’ll take care of that”, said Taintboy. My experience with HTML at the time was the same as everyone else in my field who never built a website before: they learned the basics of HMTL at age 14 and know “how it works”. Naturally, this expert of theirs did not exist, and it was mainly left to me to start learning how to use CSS properly.

To say this site used tables liberally would be an understatement. It was a virtual furniture store with all the tables I crammed into this layout. It was a horrific mess. After 4 years of web development, I have since improved greatly (In no small part to close friends of mine Farmgirl and The DJ, who will be introduced all in good time). However at the time, this was breaking new ground for me. Needless to say, there were constant revisions, as things “didn’t look right”. Typically, the conversation went like this:

“I don’t like how that looks”, he'd whimper
“Ok, well, how would you like it.” I'd ask
“....I’ll get back to you on that. Just... not like that, y’know”.

No, Jerkoff, I clearly do not know what you mean.

Tweaking every little minutiae of a design destined for the trash bin added to the already considerable amount of work to be done. To illustrate just how swamped I was, one Saturday a friend of mine had stopped by at my home to hang out. I told him I was too busy and had to keep working. He left, visibly hurt that I wouldn’t stop working for a few hours to just shoot the shit with him. It would turn out to be the last time I spoke to him for a period of 3 and half years. Recently, we got back in touch, and I found out hes spent the last few years travelling around, living a rather bohemian lifestyle that he enjoyed greatly. Meanwhile, I toiled over this beast endlessly to get it up to their design “specs”, even at the cost of my personal life.

All the while, the office itself was something of a funhouse. Coming from my last job at The Old Company, I was already used to this. But each office funhouse is unique unto itself, and bears mentioning in detail. There were the Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl, of course, who worked mainly for the Executive Chief Asshole, but since our offices were smashed together like a bag of unfortunate assholes, they worked for us too. PB was a post law grad who had not yet taken the bar, so she did the next best thing - answered phones, help run an office, and set up demos for an idiot. PG was her best friend from high school, and although that may reek of nepotism, the two of them made quite a team. They also put up with an inhumane amount of buffoonery, sexual harassment, and downright stalking from ECA. There was the Executive Chief Asshole himself, who ran the gamut from trying to convince people he fly-fished on vacation in South America on Jimmy Buffets pontoon-plane, to threatening me because I helped PB get her Ipod connected to Itunes. His exact words were “I don’t want that kid putting love songs on your Ipod.”, followed by him trying to stare me down with intense silence for the next few days.

At this point, you might think to yourself “But wait... wasn’t ECA fired? He has a second company... in the same office as his last business? And you all kind of work together in this quasi company? Is this for real?”

I wish I were lying about how incredibly mismanaged the whole situation was. I really do. 

Then there was Pal, one of our early designers, who mainly worked on client websites for additional income. Now, Pal wasn’t his real name obviously, but he was a nice guy. Funny as hell, born in one foreign country, raised in another, before landing here in the USA at a young age. He spoke nearly perfect English, with a perfect command of maybe 90 to 95% of the language. That last 5 to 10%, however, would prove to be the trickiest part of all. It was the kind of thing where his word choices were just odd, with trouble understanding and applying colloquialisms well. For example, when trying to describe the shorts women will wear with words across the ass, his choice of ass-word was “Moisty”. When I walked into the bathroom and asked him “Hey man, is there where all the dicks hang out?” I think a gasket literally popped out of the back of his fucking head. He once told the Polite Blonde (in a very harmless, friendly way) that she reminded him of a “Sexy Mary Magdalen”. But he was a good guy at heart. He and some friends had a business where they sold their designs on shirts made of bamboo. To this day he sends me Christmas cards that he designs himself. 

Red was a friend of Pals who was a fellow web designer. She had the misfortune of being unable to process wheat, which left her with enough body weight to hold down a small stack of paper. She was another interesting character, a very aloof young girl, the pair of she and Pal being the kind of young, artistic (read: hipster) youth that inhabited our neighborhood. She would question me on the amount of soda I’d intake on a daily basis, asking me if I truly understood the dangers of caffeine, and the effects it has on my bones. Eventually, partially thanks to her constant prodding, I kicked my need for caffeine entirely. Of course, she drank coffee daily. Those hipsters... they love their irony.

Taintboy was such a regular occurrence that he may as well of been part of the office. If he wasn't sneaking up on me, he and the other employees of his company were always using our office, thanks to some poorly conceived deal from the era of the Executive Chief Assholes employment. Everyday I would dread seeing him, for fear of having to actually listen to whatever non-answer he'd give me next. Thankfully, his time in my life would be coming to an end.

After several long arduous months of this, the Boss called me into his office. He said he was going to move me into the office with him, since we’d be working together on The Companys main product. I’d be reducing my time on the ordering app, and transitioning full time to the main product. It was music to my ears. I’d still need to support it, but they were going to get another shop to handle it, and wed support transitioning to them. Taintboy would be let go shortly after that - I guess mismanaging a project twice was the limit. But one thing was off - There were 3 desks in that office, and 3 bodies already filling them: the Boss, the CEO, and the Wizard. Where was I supposed to sit?.

It was then that I was informed about a change in the company structure.

 

The New Office

The CEO had decided to pursue other business opportunities. In his own words, he liked starting companies, and he felt it was time to start a new one. So, he stepped out. The Godfather appointed New Sales to be New CEO, and the world went on. I bid farewell to my friends out in the open area, and moved into the back office. It was the first time I ever had my “own” office, despite how many other guys I had to share it with. I had a big desk, the good end of the building for AC, and it was a high traffic area for important decisions. Its a major step up in a young developers life. So, I was brought on to the main product. I was involved in design discussions, new features, fixing bugs, integrating with third party systems... You name it, I had a hand in it. From that day onward, I had my hands firmly in our core product, it felt good. Little did I realize that while I had my hands in, it had its tentacles reaching up into me, slowly wrapping itself around my soul like a kraken, twisting and closing in, threatening to crush me like a wayward vessel.

It was also around this time I had become something of an “important” figure around my office. For anyone who has been “that guy” in a small team, the guy who gets three emergencies thrown at him from 3 different people in the course of a single minute, the guy who gets assigned the bugs noone else can figure out or reproduce, the guy, who when noone else has an answer, is turned to for help, you’ll know what I mean when i say “important”. I never saw it as any more than just doing my job, but the people around me started to lean on me heavily for support. For anyone who hasn’t found themselves in this position, it is entirely a narcotic effect - The high of peoples praise and admiration, tempered against the sheer agony of never having a moment of peace. Around every corner, a demon was waiting to crawl out of the walls and ambush me. But the highs made it worthwhile. Feeling “important” at what I do had been something I just started to have when The Old Company went under, and now I had it back again in a fraction of the time. Problems be damned. I can make this work.

Eventually, the day-in-day-out insanity of the Executive Chief Asshole and his racist and sexist remarks forced us to get our own office. That, and the incredibly unprofessional look of our current office, what with the painting crews and construction material laying about, not to mention the giant bald man doing drugs and bleeding from his head, screaming at people all the time..

Now, to be fair - He never did all that at once, mind you. I’d say it was a controlled madness, but half of that statement would be a lie. I will also add since then, I’ve come to learn hes turned his life around,and his current business is doing very well. So good for him. Everyone deserves a second chance.

Anyways, we moved one floor down, stole Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl as our own full time employees, and began a new. I had the local supermarket put ECAs’ company logo on a cake with a big “No Smoking” style circle over it, and brought it in to celebrate. This act earned me the first ever “Employee of the Month” designation in our history. Although it did happen to coincide with it having just been my birthday, I chose to ignore the obvious and instead imagine i had really just been named Employee of the Month. Pal even made up an incredibly awkward plaque for the occasion, featuring a picture of himself in a speedo on the beach with the slogan “Welcome to Flavor Country”, in addition to a framed photo of myself with the title “Employee of the Month” printed across it - albeit, not for the actual month my birthday took place in, strangely enough. Like I said, good guy, but quite the odd duck.

It was also about this time we took on 2 new designers - The Farmgirl, and the DJ. The Farmhand was a friendly yet no-nonsense woman from Iowa, who would delight us with tales of growing up on a farm, slaughtering animals, tilling fields, and shooting rifles. I remember one particular morning when the Boss and I sat her down to explain how our system worked. The poor girl. She was, however, fantastic at designing websites. And (there it is again) working under the pressure of laughably minuscule deadlines. I don’t know how many of you may have worked in a situation where whiteboards were everywhere, but colored markers run a premium in these environments. After an epidemic of marker thefts, I managed to sneak in a secret set, that I gave to Farmgirl for safe keeping, knowing she could handle the task. I believe it is that gesture that began our friendship.

DJ, a title granted by way of his dream, and not some abbreviation of his name, was another young man culled from the bowels of the hipster-hell our company was located in, however without the overwhelming sense of ironic nostalgia his kin seemed to posses. He was a very big Apple fan, a fact that I used to needle him with great delight. We would constantly walk up on each other and drop insults about how poorly performing the other's computer was. I would ask him how it felt to pay 3 times as much money for half the computer, and he would return with some well timed jab pointing out my most recent frustration with my ailing Windows laptop. And (for shame) there were many a frustration to be had.

Despite this, we too became good friends, and he was yet another poor soul who would last long enough to brave the coming of the end of days that was sure to come. With the advent of both Farmgirl and DJ, so too was heralded the end of the line for Pal and Red. They took on less and less work, before finally vanishing into the night. Pal went abroad and visited friends and family overseas before returning to go back to school, but Red I have not heard hide nor hair from since she left. But that wasn’t the only loss. New CEO, Wizard, Godfather, and my Boss decided that Old Sales just wasn’t bringing it. The fact that I haven’t elaborated much on his contribution to my tale could speak to why that may have been, but he was a good guy, and always a friend to me. So it was bittersweet. I was sure these men all had a good reason for doing what they had done, and so I accepted it as a necessary event on the road to success. Some people come, others go. Que Sera, and all that jazz. I've since run into him on the street, and can confirm hes doing more than well for himself in his latest venture.

This is yet another point at which I must stop the story, and introduce some as-of-yet unknown but in many ways key person. The New Office wouldn’t be complete without a mention of this particular individual, as his presence helped to define many of its critical moments. With the loss of Old Sales, and New Sales playing CEO (from here on out known as CEOSales), we were in need of a New New Sales (no, that will not be his pseudonym). To this end, we found MadMan. Found, of course, can mean many things to many people.

MadMan was a special guy. He would routinely ask Polite Blond and Pregnant Girl to handle getting his lunch (to clarify, these women were working as office managers, client representatives, and also managed client Search Engine Marketing accounts at this point in our story. They never handled a single lunch for anyone else, Pregnant Girls sole foray into the world of diet management for ECA aside). He would openly talk about how much his wife loved “getting fucked”, although this did incur the attention of The Godfather, albeit with minimal long term success. He would guarantee anyone anything in return for a deal, and was consistently the reason for 90% of our problems. He even signed a deal with a local restaurant owner to pay us in food, for web design work that quickly ballooned out of scope. Who needs the pesky hindrance of money, ever the overbearing middleman, when free food is quite literally on the table?

Free food that most of us never got to partake in, save the bare-minimum Christmas Parties we got thrown. But that sounds like sour grapes, and that isn’t what this about. Just bear in mind, this a grown man, calling himself the Executive Vice-President of Sales... who signed a contract for some chicken wings and BBQ ribs. Let that marinate for a while.

He would over promise to such a degree that there was no feasible way to even shoot a par. If he signed the deal, it was destined to be a catastrophe. Never had I worked with a man who created more trouble than he could ever hope to out-weigh. Still, he saw himself as top level brass, and it showed. Yet to ask anyone who would be the one person to let go, MadMan would be the one to see the door. And (I just can’t help myself) they did ask us. But now I’m getting ahead of things. Just keep in mind while normal everyday work is occuring (which is to say, more work than anyone should be pushed to achieve in a single day), we have a guy like this on the premises, acting as a general wildcard. He was like ECA, but with the veneer of a stereotypical mid 90s impersonation of an 80s used car salesman. I should mention it was through MadMan that I eventually came to learn that both he and the Executive Chief Asshole were college drinking buddies with CEOSales and the Wizard. Oh, same goes for the guy MadMan bartered a deal for food with.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.

 

Why you should never include World of Warcraft on your resume

Now that most of the players have been established, I can start to fully describe who the Wizard was, and what he did. Pal, Red, Farmgirl, and DJ all worked under the Wizard. In a sense, so too did Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl. He directed all website design, all marketing campaigns, and anything having to do with Search Engine Marketing and Optimization. Wizard ran a tight ship, if your definition of a “tight ship” is a man beating on drums instructing slaves to row. He would demand inhuman amounts of work in impossible time frames. He was also quite tempermental, and quick to change his mind. We had about 20-25 major website revisions within a year and a half. From artsy shots of the city overlayed with bright, eye-catching text, to minimalist white-walls sparsely populated with clean looking icons, we had it all. Unless, of course, you were looking for some manner of cohesive strategy.

We were shit out of luck in that department.

Eventually, Wizard needed a Lieutenant. Quickly reaching back into his favorite pool of resources, his old college, he soon found a young man that was ready, willing, and able. He was a bright guy, with a friendly smile and, I would come to find out, a serious gluttony for punishment at the hands of his superiors. The Lieutenant joined on, and I couldn’t really tell you what he did from day to day, other than general client management and SEO/SEM work. He was a nice enough guy, however, and we became friends quickly.

I would come to learn from Pregnant Girl and Polite Blonde that his time was not always the most efficiently spent. His days would be filled with browsing websites and watching Netflix, Hulu, and DVDs brought from home. One particularly fateful day, he was in the tail end of a meeting (one thing that was common for us, was for meetings to peter out into people just working in the conference room on whatever the meeting happened to be about) with his headphones on. A quick jerk of his arm proved ill-conceived, and the headphone jack came bounding out of it's port. Now to me, the audio that escaped his speakers in the mere moments that passed between then and his scramble to re-insert the cord would have been near indistinguishable from anything else. Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl, however, recognized it instantly.

He was watching Gossip Girl DVDs on the clock. A dangerous game to play while working for a man like the Wizard, but a game he played quite frequently, I've come to find out. The Wizard, while very aloof and frequently out of the office, was quite quick to temper (as previously mentioned), and usually took it out on or around the Lieutenant. For months on end, he was akin to the Wizards whipping boy. If a potion didn't work, if a spell fizzled, if a concotion failed, Lieutenant was sure to hear about it, his fault or not.

About this time, we also got the benefit of a 3rd developer. We went through stacks of resumes, and interviewed some of the sorriest candidates you'd ever meet.

I'm going to stop the storyline here for a minute, and take time out to mention a very special interviewing candidate, whom I will label the GuildMaster. GuildMaster, if you are reading this (and you probably aren't), you need to take what follows here to heart, and understand there is no malice or ill-intent in what i'm about to say.

I wanted to smack the shit out of you.

Not because of your lack of experience, or because you were a little too milquetoast to work in our kind of environment, but because on your 2/3rds of a double-spaced page of a resume, half of the content was comprised of your World of Warcraft Guild Leadership Experience. I don't know what would possess someone to put "Guild Leadership" as their number one strength on a resume that barely had enough content to fill a napkin - Maybe fellow WOW players convinced him it was a good idea, maybe he felt he just needed "something" to go on there, I do not know. But what I do know was that I have since never seen a resume that made me physically feel bad for another human being like this one did. And (They sell books on writing, right?) I know I'm not alone here: Several days later, when retelling this story to a friend of mine who is a developer and also handles interviews, he stopped me part way through and asked if the GuildMaster met a certain physical description. When I confirmed it, he almost asphyxiated on his own laughter.

"I sent that kid out of my office in tears!", he cried, not known for pulling his punches. "He was the worst!"

So please, GuildMaster and all future GuildMasters, do not put your WOW experience on your resume... Especially if its all you have. I'll even explain to you why. You're tacitly admitting, by way of the natural connotation of a young, MMO playing nerd, that we (the company and your fellow developers) will most likely be taking a backseat to your WOW needs. It also says "Instead of spending my time trying to learn a new language as a hobby, or reading blogs from our field, or just tinkering with side projects, I'll be playing WOW". Maybe that isn't true - Maybe you're exceptionally well at handling your time, and you have no problem juggling work and private home concerns flawlessly. Maybe you don't need sleep, and you spend half the night playing WOW, and the other half writing beautiful applications that would make me weep with joy. That may be so. But that is not what putting WOW Guild Leadership experience at the top of your empty resume says. Unless your job has something to do with rangling a bunch of people into performing menial tasks for hours on end for a chance at obtaining some trinket, like say, a Camp Counselor, then do not include it. Think. Think about the impression you're going to be making with the content of your resume. It isn't just a list of shit you've done that needs some filling-in. Its a list of why I should go to my Boss and say "Yea, this is our guy, no question about it." If you're resume is light on details, let it be light. Noone starts with a mountain of experience. Win me over in person. Talk about your interests in the field, side projects... anything! Just don't put video game experience at the top of your list, unless you're trying to get a job with Chinese Gold Farmers.

No, by the way, being a Guild Leader does not prepare you for a team lead or a management style position. So don't even bother suggesting it.

I'm somewhat sorry to say, GuildMaster did become a bit of a joke around our office as our new high watermark of resume excellence. At many points shortly thereafter, we would posit whether someone or something had enough Guild Leadership experience to handle a certain task. The joke died out quickly, but not too quickly... So let that be a final bit of warning to all you young GuildMasters out there: Bad resumes spread like the flu around small offices, so don't let yours start an epidemic.

Oh, and on that note, could some of you please understand the importance of a proper handshake? If you're not leaving a dead fish in my hand, you've gripped way too fast and trying to shake three of my fingers. You wait until the webbing between your thumbs meets, you tighten your grip, and you shake 2-3 times while looking the person in the eyes and saying your introductions. I actually had to give Pal a lesson on this, as I said to him if he took one thing from his time in America, it would be the proper way to shake a mans hand.

Alright, now I'm done bitching about interviews.

Eventually, a developer with a good deal of skill, knowledge, and payscale flexibility came to our door. The Goon was that dev. He interviewed well - He cursed, he talked about his side work in addition to his main work, he cursed, and he seemed like an alright guy to boot. He wasn't afraid of cursing, either. At the time, this made him a great fit for our team: We cursed, we drank - hell, there was still that picture of Pal in his speedos hanging around the office somewhere. It wasn't like we sure some chaste, puritan development shop, and we needed someone to fit in in all the right ways. Goon hit all the notes in my interview, and the same with my Boss. When it came time to sit down and pick who we'd hire, Goon was a nobrainer.

I’d like to point out his nickname is less a reflection of his development acumen (He was actually a very skilled dev, and a pretty sharp guy, despite some personality quirks), and more a reflection of the particular online communities he belonged to. The following tale of one of our first days working together should illustrate my point to some of you, and leave others as confused as I was:

"So... Does your home have stairs?", the Goon tossed out, early one day
"...Uh..." I begin to stammer, visibly perplexed by this line of questioning. “Well I live in an apartment building, but yea it has stairs in it.”
"Never mind! You don’t get it!" he guffawed.

I had later come to find out this is how people from "SomethingAwful", an internet community, identify themselves to one another in public. Think of a modern day equivalent to the "Jesus Fish" that christians used to use when they needed a way to identify themselves without tipping off the Romans. The correct answer, in case you’re wondering, is something along the lines of “Yes, I am well protected”. That response might not be 100% accurate, but you can be 100% sure I don’t give a shit.

My lovely girlfriend, also a member of this community, has urged me to disclaim that I am in no way judging him for his membership in this particular group, and I am only including this little story as a key part of the larger narrative, for the purpose of establishing how Goon behaved around me and in the office. If I had a less derogatory-sounding name to apply to him, I surely would. There is simply no other word or phrase more apt to describe this gentleman, other than perhaps "In need of a cold shower." Or maybe "Sir Swears A Lot", but I just can't be fucked to type that out every single time.

Other highlights of working with Goon included listening to him sing Linkin Park songs under his breath, hearing Internet memes spoken as though they were part of his everyday vernacular (who actually says "Shoop da Woop!" in real life?), and completely unsolicited stories about how he and his girlfriend were into hardcore BDSM and swinging.

Well... 1 out of 3 isn’t bad.

Hes the kind of guy I might have hung out with at some parties in college, but maybe not as much between classes. He was also one to use backhanded compliments in very sincere ways, although I'll elaborate on that a little later in our story. I’m sure I wasn’t exactly his cup of tea either (I can be kind of an abrupt asshole, I don't think I can go 3 sentences without one of them being viciously sarcastic, and I have a very visible lack of patience for certain things, especially "Woe-is-me-ism"). But despite all that, he was a hard worker and a capable developer who was more or less thrown to the wolves when he walked in the door. He was a good guy at heart, the kind of person who genuinly seemed not to realize that, despite how happy we were that he found someone to share in his kinks, no one really wanted to hear about watching another man fuck his girlfriend.

Well that isn't exactly true. Apparently, Lieutenant loved to hear about this shit. He had a girlfriend, but you could easily see that the crazy sexual exploits of the Goon were something right out of a letter to Penthouse to him. Goon would come to tell me a few times how much the Lieutenant hung on every word when the topic switched to his nightlife, and I would easily believe him. Goon loved an audience (another aspect of his personality than I'm almost positive bleeds into his sex life), and the Lieutenant made a rapt one. I almost fear for what the Lieutenants poor girlfriend must have had suggested to her on those nights where he had gotten himself all worked up on Goons tales of lust, violence, and "A man with a cock in the shape of a soda can banging my girls brains out."

That last one is as direct a quote as I can recall.

Like I said, however, I didn't really give a fuck about any of that, what I cared about was that he was good at what he did. We were able to work together, and alongside the Boss, very well. We quickly formed a very cohesive, tight-knit team, despite any misgivings I had about his personality. It was pretty great, for a time. The Wizard, however, took this increase in developers to mean we should be able to get features done in a fraction of the time. He would routinely claim that we "Didn't have a product" without a particular feature, which was sure to change from month to month. He once attempted us to introduce functionality into our home-grown reporting that amounted to Pivot Tables in Excel, declaring that "Well, Google has a button that just does it".

You know what else Google has? Facilities that cover enough area to qualify as small towns, limitless resources, and more developers and engineers than you could fit in an olympic sized swimming pool. But hey, if Google can do it, theres no reason a small team of 3 working without any resources in a cramped, tiny office couldn't... Right?

With our increase in numbers, however, came the cue for MadMan to start driving home the sales. He drove them home, alright, if their homes were 6 feet into the dirt. You would have thought his name was John Henry the way he hammered the deals straight into the ground. Heres what I'd define as the Lifecycle of a Sale for our company:
  • MadMan would make a sale for services we didn’t offer or features we didn’t have.
  • We’d spend 2 weeks to a month scrambling to implement it, test it, revise it, and get it ready for some kind of release, while still trying to do our own work, which included building features for who'se abscense meant we "Didn't have a product"
  • These features would be released, never used, and reported as broken 3 months later when they were accessed in a live demo no one had told us about or even bothered to do a dry run for.
  • We would be blamed for not being good enough at our jobs to anticipate these problems ahead of time.
  • MadMan would not be reprimaded in the least for zealously overpromising and causing undue strain on our development process.
  • The deal would either fall through, or prove ultimately unprofitable for our company in the long run

Repeat.

The poor design team (down to Farmgirl and DJ at this point) had it even worse. They would have to design and build site after site, week after week, with no end in sight. I'm not sure of the exact numbers, but for several months, we were flying through client contract work as a way to keep us afloat. These 2 poor souls were in essence keeping our business alive while the C levels tried to figure out why we just weren't selling our core product like we should be. Constant revisions, unhappy clients, screaming Wizards... it all got to be too much. Farmgirl (un)fortunately left to pursue a much better life filled with travelling the world and doing charity work. DJ stayed on as the sole and lead U/I man on our payroll. Now with just 1, Wizard needed to calm down lest he find himself a king without a court. To say DJ had it easy would be like saying he had to sit in a vat of water that was “barely” at a rolling boil. Relatively speaking though, after Farmgirl left, he had a much better time of it than anyone else.

So, the next months came and went rather "uneventfully", although there was one rather interesting development. Wizard got it in his head that Twitter was the new Everything, and for a brief and unfortunate period of my life, I was forced to have a Twitter account. Personal note about me, I despise Twitter, Facebook, etc. So to be forced to signing up for a Twitter account and being made to tweet a suggested 4 to 5 times a day about "Things that you're working on", was like being told I was going to have my testicles put on a hot stove and slammed with a dictionary, repeatedly. Did I understand his end goal of driving awareness of our brand by acting as thought leaders in our space? Sure. Did I give a fuck about that? Not on your life. I gave a fuck about building our product, and so my foray into Twitter lasted all of 4 tweets, none of which were read by anyone of any signifigance. Thankfully, this drive of his sputtered out to a stall quickly.

I have since purged myself from that wretch of a service, an act that felt akin to taking a bath after living in a sewer for a few months.

We all started working from home most days, since being in the office guaranteed us atleast 2-3 hours of people needing us to fix the printer and tell them why their wifi wasn’t working. Spoiler Alert: It was the switch on the side of the laptop. Allow me to say, the stereotype of somoene who works from home and doesn’t pull his weight didn’t apply here. If anything, not having the commute meant we could spend that time working; and spend time working we did. From the moment I woke up, until 6, 7, even 8 at night or beyond, they had us working. When you live in your office, you’re always a stones throw from your work.

Nothing amongst the pile of work really sticks out until we started taking our product to meet ups, trade shows, and other places where people gather to wander around conference halls and read brochures. It’s at one of these that we came into contact with the man who would come to be our undoing. Now, it isn’t entirely fair to lay the blame on his head, but his coming did herald the beginning of the end. A new CEO, a new start. He would be brought on to fix all of the bad, add on lots of new greatness, and save the day. This meant that, legally, the current Company had to disolve so that our debt could be magically washed away. Technically, there was a period of time where I was working for "no one", with the understanding that I'd be re hired at my old salary with all the old contracts in place, and everything back the way it was.

Looking back, I think I had just stopped caring at that point. I'm speeding over some events on my way to this part of the story because, for a while, there was nothing much outside of "working my ass off" to report about. I was working nonstop all day long, new features kept coming, old features kept breaking. I was so heads-down into the code, that I didn't even know how to come up for air. If I had gone through this a second time, this would have been where I would have raised a signifigant fuss; New contract, raise, gaurentees of some kind, etc. However, I did not. The checks kept coming, meager though they were, and that was all that mattered to me. I really did believe at the time that if we just learned how to make a proper sale, we could have a success on our hands.

Maybe I just wanted to believe that... Maybe the years spent so far investing myself into this company and our product had finally broken my mind. The tentacles of the kraken had finally wormed their way fully into my skull, prodding my mind constantly... If we could just finish these features... if we could just get some interested customers to see how great it was...

What happened next, however, none of us saw coming.

Like a phoenix with clipped wings

So, a Newer CEO was in the works. I had not met this gentleman yet, although once I did, his demeanor and attitude would lend itself well to his new pseudonym: Pappy. He was a bit of an older man, having started and made successful other businesses before turning himself into something of a freelance entrepeneur, which had become quite the fashionable job at that time. As I had mentioned previously, he was being brought in to help us reign in our expenses, increase revenues, and generally get our collective shit together. He was courted by the Godfather and the rest of our C-level team, being fed the story of a treasurebox, just waiting for the right man to come along and open it. This poor bastard gladly picked the lock, plunged his hands deep, and found out all too that late the treasures inside were made of broken glass and sharp-edged metals.

However, he had a long hard fight of head him before that. First, he was meeting with people (except for the developers) individually and assessing the situation of the company as a whole, as well as the individuals in it. As this went down, naturally, certain roles were to be restructured, or come under additional scrutiny. Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl found themselves in the cross-hairs of these changes. They had been keeping the books, handling billing, working with and managing client accounts, and attempting to keep our world together as best they could. Under the new regime, they’d only be responsible, and compensated, for a part of the work they already did. In addition, there was a lot of blame put upon them in regards to their fullfillment of said prior duties; particularly our contracts and billing situation. Pappy was not pleased, not one bit, and he had let it be known that going forward, things would not be run this way.

What he wasn’t entirely aware of yet was that blaming them for the state of our books was like blaming Kim Jong Il's accountant for not speaking up sooner. Imagine being told to keep track of all the business a company does, without any real formal guidelines by which contracts are written, or even on how to properly generate billable records for customers. It's just “figured out” as it needs to be. Thats the situation they often found themselves in. They were tasked with just making bills happen - just get the bills going out, and get the checks coming in. Our contracts were equally a mess - We had no structure in place for a "standard" agreement; each contract was figured out and written specifically to meet a particular clients needs or wishes, solely for the purpose of making a sale. MadMan is mostly to blame here, but the Wizard, CEOSales, and to some extent the Boss were all a part of this.

So just imagine, you've been working your ass off to keep the trickle of money flowing in, while a bunch of guys in the upper levels are constantly throwing you curveballs. You need to calculate every contract at a different rate, hunt down any refunds or credits one of them may have promised a customer during the month, and create a bill that reflects an accurate set of charges the customer will be able to understand. By hand. Every month. For several dozens of customers. In addition to the 50 hours of work a week you were already tasked with. After driving 2 hours to get here in the morning. Being paid in peanuts.

Yet, those bitches had the nerve to quit. Some people, you know?

As I've said, Pappy was none-too-pleased with what he saw, and the fate of our heroines is forever obscured in a cruel tale of "He Said/She Said". According to the ladies, they were "offered" a signifigant cut in both pay and benefits, as well as responsibilities. That's it. No further negotations. Take it or leave it. According to Pappy and CEOSales, the ladies overreacted, the cut in salary and responsibility was merely a suggestion, and that every attempt had been made to reach a compromise with them, to keep our family together.

It should come as no great surprise that I choose to take Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girls side of things, given everything I knew about how our company was managed to date. The next shocking twist, however, would confirm that any faith I may once have had in the people running the Company was sorely misplaced.

So, PB and PG decided they had had enough. They had learned a great deal about managing the many features of Google for our clients, and decided to put their knowledge into use by going into business for themselves. It's important to note here, what they were doing was in no way a direct competition to our core business (or what should have been our core business). In fact, with their new venture, they were primed to funnel all of their clients into us, had the relationship not taken a turn for the worse. The day they officially quit, the rest of the Company was being officially introduced to Pappy at that forever staple of high business luncheons, PF Changs. The ladies had decided not to come, for obvious reasons. Earlier in the day, PG had issued an email to her list of clients, stating that she and PB were leaving the company, instructing them to contact the Lieutenant with all future needs, and thanking them for all of their business. There was nothing dishonest or misleading about what she had written, it was your perfectly standard "Goodbye, and thanks for all the fish" send off letter. Shortly thereafter, one of our customers had decided not to renew their contract with us. I heard the news, and lamented "Well, you gotta break a few eggs".

During our time at PF Changs, another email had come in from PG, announcing she and PBs withdrawl from our ranks to the team as a whole. Not 5 minutes later did a second email come in, from another client, announcing that they would not be renewing their contract with us either. Suspicious? It certainly was. However the blood-lust bloomed so rapidly, that not even a moments inquiry was allowed into the possibility of this being a benign coincidence. 

"Foulplay!"

"Treason!"

"Lawsuit!"

These were the cries for justice that rang out in our PF Changs, amongst the additional clamor of patrons requesting drink refills and extra menus. Pappy, CEOSales, MadMan, The Wizard... They had been assaulted. A shot, fired across their bow. This meant war, and they were ready to do whatever it took to show these two women that when you fuck with a bull, you better believe you'll be getting the horns. We very quickly shuffled out of the restaurant, and began walking to our cars.

During this walk, I was accompanied by the Boss and Goon, and we each discussed our opinions on the matter.The Boss was very analytical: Polite Blonde was damn near a lawyer, she and Pregnant Girl knew all our contracts, they know we’re on questionable legal ground in every sense of the word with every deal we've made, and Pregnant Girl was the accountant - she knows whatever dirty secrets we have, and our financial standing. With these 2 pieces of info, they could safely gamble on stealing our clients. He was quite impressed with their cunning.

Goon, took a similar, if less calculated approach: He couldn’t FUCKING BELIEVE these bitches would fuck us over, and he hoped we sued them into the ground. This was a personal attack on him and his livelihood, and he would not stand back and allow it. Same belief in wrong doing, but different opinion of the situation.

I, on the other hand, wondered why no one had even called them to ask what was going on yet. “This is PG and PB we’re talking about - we’ve known them for years. They’re not criminal masterminds. I admit, they're bright enough to pull it off... but malicious enough? Someone needs to call one of them and find out whats going on before we go crazy”. While no one disagreed, they didn’t seem to interested in it either. They had already made their minds up, based on the "facts" available to them. I, however, could not accept such a turn of events without atleast hearing a confession from one of them. So, after dropping off a very agitated Goon, I called PG.

“Didn’t see it coming”, I said.
“What, us quitting?” She cheerily replied. “Yea well, I mean with all the shit going on...”
“Stealing Customers! Thats crazy! Did you really set something up?” I laughed, awaiting her response
“What?! We didn’t steal any customers!” She said sharply.
“Then you might want to call someone and tell them that, because they’re already talking about suing you.”
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” She gasped into the phone.

The rest of our conversation consisted of her asking me for a non work email address to forward the goodbye letter she sent to clients for my own verification, followed by her explanation of what Pappy and the rest of them had been upto with she and Polite Blondes' jobs. As already stated, the email was cleaner than a preacher's sheets. They were in the clean, having done no wrong. Someone needed to try and stop this before it got out of hand. I called my Boss to tell him what I learned. Based on the language he used and the hushed tones in his voice, it was very clear he was surrounded by the others, as they all prepared for war. He chose his words carefully, inquiring “If wheels were in motion, would you suggest stopping them?”

Jesus fucking christ, are you kidding me? Are you people seven? This is how seven year olds act! You're supposed to be the level headed ones! You run this company! You need to behave with an even keel!

“Yes.", I said, with a stern resolution. "Tell them to call her right now. You can straighten it out with one call.”
“Ok. Thanks”, he quietly replied.

"Just call her! There doesn't have to be any lawsuit!" I finished.

To this day, I believe that phonecall didn’t occur until about 2 or 3 hours later, showing the brilliant response time of the upper levels of my relatively small company. Crisis was averted. The lawsuit was stopped. I say with whatever small modesty that I might be afforded, that to this day, I feel as though I can credit myself with saving 2 dear friends and 1 increasingly juvenile Company from a very meaningless and embarassing lawsuit. CEOSales personally apologized to them both.

But what, praytell, were the reasons behind our client exodus? Well, the first one was just business as usual - they simply didn't want to renew. The second client we lost, the one that prompted the initial burst of outrage and fear, was a much better story. It turns out, Polite Blonde was visiting them once a week to explain their results, assuage any fears they had about our product, and generally making herself available to assist them and keep them happy. No one knew she was doing this, and she was doing it for months on end. They weren't paying us for us; they were paying us for her. No Polite Blonde? No Client.

End of Story.

As for the people in charge during this whole? Seven year olds. Every last one them; each of what remained of the "Captains of Industry" I once knew. And ( I was doing so well, too ) as much as I hate to say it, my Boss was in the sandbox with the lot of them. So, that was that. The girls loss started a fire that ultimately consumed MadMan and CEOSales, leaving Wizard to be our first "President", while my Boss pretty much tried his hardest to stay the same.

Do you remember when I introduced MadMan, and I mentioned if you asked anyone, he would be the first person to let go? Well, this is when we got asked that very question. Who or What was the biggest problem facing the Company today. From nearly everybody, including the outgoing Polite Blonde and Pregnant Girl, the answer was MadMan. He fought tooth and nail to stay on, and even had some of our investors, childhood friends of his, drag their feet and issue threats if MadMan wasn't part of the Company. But when the dust settled, it was all for naught. He sold his shares out from under himself before anyone else even had the option, and was eventually removed from his position. CEOSales followed suit shortly thereafter, realizing he was next on the chopping block. Currently, MadMan works for a company where he purports to have founded and sold his previous company, in a similiar space as his newfound employer.

This is the kind of thing that makes me want to rethink my policy on second chances.

On the development side of things, we kept our heads down and tried to improve, pushing out new features and supporting the product as best we could. However, it wouldn’t be easy. Major features languished due to lack of time to finish implementing them, new directions for our corporate plan and product roadmap meant new features and new capabilities. Wizard had bold new plans, and using Pappys power, he’d get them done. Pappy, despite Wizards pleadings, was not so quick to hand it over. He asked for reason, and logic. Plans and strategies. Achievable goals and the means by which you believe you could achieve them. Wizard was taken aback by these hurtful arrows of bureaucratic best-practice. A power struggle was brewing: Wizard VS Pappy. It would come to a head sooner than expected.

We developers, however, soldiered on. For a brief period of time, we were even graced with an additional hire, in the form of a QA manager. She a was kindly woman from Pakistan, and she was a saint if ever there were one. Our development process was a bit of a tangle. The three of us, Boss, Goon, and myself, we all knew how to get things running, how to test and probe the system, what little bits of information were critical to get going. QA, however, did not have this luxury, and her beginning days were mostly spent in frustration at how we ever got anything done. Eventually, we managed to meet in the middle. We got better, more formalized processes in place for setting up tests and local deployments for her to use, and she learned a little more than she ever cared to know about development and source control. She quite the sharp lady, to the extent that she saw the end coming long before most other people had any clue. When the hammer fell, it did not fall harshly upon our QA employee - she was well prepared, and had made sure to keep her ducks in a row.

I'm not sure what happened to her, but QA, if you're reading this, thanks for all the hard work. You really did a great job with what meager little you were given, and our team was always the better for having you there.

We began putting out well tested, well built code at a mucher higher rate during these times. We began to catch up on aging facets of the product, and started to remove a lot of our blemishes. Finally, we felt as though we had a solid shot. As disruptive as Pappys arrival was, a lot of change for the better was also taking place. Meetings happened every Monday morning, where we'd all talk about what we did in the prior week, and what we were going to do this week. For a company with so few people, most of whom had no idea what was going on outside of their small realm, this was like a complete rebirth. A rebirth, and a painful attempt at flight.

In addition to QA, there came 3 hot shot young Interns who were hired to revitalize us with cheap labor, and the infectious can-do attitude of youth (relatively speaking of course). I’ll refer to them by what I envisioned their job description to be.

Twitter was a young girl from eastern Europe who spoke at least 6 languages and had lived all around the world. Naturally, her job was to do things with Twitter and Facebook for our corporate presence. She was responsible for helping us get go-nowhere European accounts that would have never purchased our up sells in a million years (The model at the time was Up-Selling. This would be changing drastically in these months, as we frantically tried to do whatever we could to get new sales going).

Then there was Stepson. He was the CEOs Stepson, a sharp guy, and had a realm of responsibility known as “Little a’ this, little a’ that”. Talked to clients, learned a bit of HTML and Javascript, you name it, he could handle it with a general level of adequatulence (RIP Phil Hartman).

Finally, we had NoIdea. He was also a sharp guy, and he was a math major to boot, which means he was great with Excel and putting together numbers. I have no fucking idea what his job was. I don’t think he even knew what his main role was supposed to be, but hey - we’re a startup! (At this point, the company was in its 2nd or 3rd incarnation, depending on who you asked, and had officially been around for over 5 years, but who's counting?).

So it went on like this for a few months. We’d have our Monday meetings, Pappy would go over his latest business plan, the interns would grasp at giving reports about what they were supposed to be doing, and we developers just talk about what fixes we made, what new features are underway, what we want to get done this week, and then open it up to suggestions. For a while, it worked pretty well. We weren’t selling like we wanted to, but we never were. The team, however, was working together well, and getting things done. It was actually a great time for us.  

Maybe... Just maybe... We’d turn this thing around.

Joy and Betrayal

It wasn’t all smiles and rainbows, however. Things may have been appearing to be on the mend with our latest efforts, but it's important to highlight some issues that I haven't really touched upon yet. During this time, Goon began to get more and more arrogant about his abilities. He would recommend me books that were “great for first year students”, talk about how much he loved our team, despite the fact that my style "irked" him, and tell me about he and the Boss were “Architects” and I was "Duct Tape". Finally, one night when the DJ wasn’t giving him all the design material he needed to finish a new part of the site, Goon started going off about how he just couldn’t work with him any more, and he couldn’t be around him without insulting him, and how he was lucky Goon was even willing to put up with him for this long. Although Goon had a fair arguement in that DJ did not get him everything he needed, his reaction was completely overblown. It was another symptom of his growing arrogance. This time, the Boss was in on his tirade, as we were all on a conference call. I listened to him rant and rave for a good 20 minutes before I excused myself and went offline for the night. I knew that at this point, I had to speak up about his attitude.

Goon was a great developer, but he was a terrible co-worker. He alienates his people around him with his attitude, he shouts obscenities around the office without any regard to where he is or who was around him (We were always a casual environment, but he routinely took that leeway too far). The very first time he was in the same room as Twitter, he called her a "fucking idiot" to her face because the only time she tried to use Google Navigate, she wound up at the wrong address. He openly talked about how hes “just out of here” come January 1st without a substantial raise (To be fair, that was a valid complaint, but the frequency and callousness with which he said it reeked of arrogance). To put it bluntly, I didn’t want to work with the kid anymore, and I needed to say something about it or else risk letting his attitude continue to sour our development team. I was torn, however. I pride myself on a stoic ability endure hardships, and not to my problems someone elses concern.

Talking to him directly wasn't really an option. He has an incredibly high view of himself, so much so that you really can't say anything to him that he doesn't want to hear. If I were to approach him man to man, as would be my wont, it would surely degenerate very rapidly into an argument, with Goons temper quick to flare into a firestorm. He'd take it as a sign of my own insecurity and jealousy, and not as a coworker desperately trying to get him to stop acting like such a self righteous asshole for the sake of the team.

So, I shut my computer down, moved my rear end from my work chair to my couch, and thought. Do I let the Boss know? Do I just sit and suffer? Do I take my chances confronting him?

One person I have not mentioned very much during this story, is my girlfriend. She bore witness to almost everything that had transpired, not only that day, but over the past year and a half of this opera. She was always there to support me in what I did, and offer advice when I needed it. She gave me the push I needed to make what was ultimately the right choice. I picked up my phone, called my Boss, and left him a voice mail (what is with this guy and not answering my phone calls?! It's like my interview all over again.). My message indicated we had something very urgent to talk about, and it was important he got back to me as soon as possible. It would be over 2 hours before he called me back. During that time, she and I enjoyed a very nice sushi dinner at a neighborhood spot.

Nothing puts you at ease like some fresh eel and avocado.

My Boss had no idea he had been cutting me up behind his back, as he’d never dare insult me in front of the Boss. I told him that I’d been loyal to the company and the team for years, but unless Goon cut the shit, I’d be looking for a new job. Boss was genuinely shocked that any of this had been going on, and was quick to reassure me he didn't agree with Goons opinions. He recognized all my contributions, and again asserted that he couldn't afford to lose me, and added that he also noticed Goons behavor, agreeing that it needed to be changed. The Boss felt it was for his own good; If he took this attitude to any other company, he would've been seriously reprimanded, if not outright fired by now. If you had to go to work everyday for 10 to 12 hours, and listen to a member of your own team repeatedly make backhanded remarks at you, you'd attempt to talk to the man, or file a complaint, or even start looking for a new job. Some might even be tempted to take a swing. But Goon is the kind of guy who would love for someone to hit him. He liked to talk about how “crazy” he is, and how anyone who messes with him is “in for it”. Pregnant Girl once admitted that she and Polite Blonde voted him "Most likely to shoot up the office." When he heard this, he looked genuinely proud. I shit you not; There was a distinct look of pride on the mans face.

I’m not in the business of trying to be a “tough guy”. I don’t care how strong or badass or capable a fighter you are. Throwing a fist is a last resort; humiliating or otherwise psychologically bitch-slapping someone is so far more worthwhile to me, and the only effective means to administer such a move would be through our Boss. Goons self image is what matters most to him. It’s important that others see him as the scion of nerdly coolness that he sees in himself. If I get in his face, it would be because I’m “jealous”. If our Boss does it, he has to take notice and listen. So I set the Boss in motion to get Goon in line, or risk losing ⅓ of your team. It seemed to work; over the next few weeks, Goon calmed down significantly. I don’t know if the Boss talked to him or if Goon just took a step back and pulled his head out of his ass, but he was much more bearable in the weeks leading up to the next major event.

I'll mention that from here on out, things began to unfold pretty quickly. Like a chain reaction, once the base begins to crumble, the entire house of cards soon follows.

Pappy called me up one morning, and told me he was “this close” to shutting us all down and re-forming a skeleton crew of me, maybe my Boss, and 2 others to keep things on life support while he thought of yet another direction. When he had called me, I had assumed I was the 3rd or 4th one called, after my own Boss, but this wasn't the case. I was being given a warning, by a Pappy who was desperate to make sure I on board with his plans. There was a private meeting called with myself, the Boss, the Lieutenant, QA, and Stepson. We were in. Everyone else was out. This meant Goon too. It was an incredibly demoralizing blow that no one but me knew was coming, and it was the first of many private conversations that Pappy would have with me that would severely shake my belief in our new Company.

Why was I so special, that I got a call? I really couldn't tell you. I worked hard, I complained very little, and I gave frank yet honest answers to his questions. Thats it. Thats the only thing I can tell you about why he may have liked me more than anyone else.

That, and I never called anyone a fucking idiot during a company meeting.

After the the bombshell was dropped and we lucky few survivors left for lunch, the Boss called Goon and had him meet the rest of us. Part of me wanted to hold off on telling Goon so quickly, before we had any real idea about what was going on, but ultimately it was the right thing to do. Goon was livid. How DARE Pappy not invite him! Who does this asshole think he is?! Well that settles it, he is OUT of here come January 1st no matter what! He’ll NEVER forgive Pappy for this slanderous behavior.

He went on like this for the entire lunch. Now, I try not to be petty, but I'll admit that I took a small amount of schadenfraude in the situation. I had been helpful, held my temper, and just soldiered on as best I could, acting no better than anyone else. Goon let his emotions get the best of him, and it bled through in his unproffesional manner. I did truly feel bad that his hard work was being underappreciated by Pappy, but I cannot lie and tell you it didn't in some small way vindicate me; if only in my own mind.

Goon was, of course, all talk - At the first sign of Pappy offering him to let him “back in” to the fold, he bit. Next week, Pappy apologized for demoralizing the group, wanted to let us know things were going to be ok, and even put DJ in charge of a “fun fund” so we could get a little joy back into the office. Goon calmed back down, and briefly forgot about the first time Pappy tried to screw him out of a job.

Prior to this, DJ tried to resign 3 times. When you “try” to resign 3 times, you’re just not trying hard enough. But DJ had had enough, and I couldn’t blame him. Although he had a nice position, he was overworked and out of passion. He wanted to work more on supporting himself with his music, and I encouraged him to do so. No office "fun fund" in the world is tempting enough to keep a man chained away from his dreams. So he passed that mantle unto the Stepson, and cut himself down to a few hours a week. For the next month or two, we continued in a relatively uneven fashion. We were looking good. We were going under. We were saved. Things won't last much longer. We were working hard to get a new version of the product ready, that would help us automate our billing and enable us to really scale our ability to generate revenues, but Boss had a different ace up his sleeve. 

Unbeknownst to the rest of us, he and Wizard had been meeting about the direction that our companies latest incarnation had been heading. Although Boss had been vocal in the past about Pappys shortcomings, it was never to the tune of a coup. He and Wizard decided that Pappy wasn’t doing what he should be doing, and they wanted him out. Failing that, he needed to give up a signifigant portion of control to Wizard and my Boss, the men who helped found this company, and knew it so well.

So, they staged what will forever go down as the worst power play in this history of business.

One Monday morning, as the meeting wound down, Wizard very suddenly and very succinctly resigned. He thanked us for our hard work, told us we had a bright future ahead of ourselves, and that he had a very interesting book about ants that we was looking forward to reading. Boss then followed suit, however the sheer audacity of his resignation tops everything so far. Boss wasn’t in the room when this went down - he was teleconferenced in via a laptop and a video camera. So when he resigned, he simply said "Yup, Me too.", and turned the camera off.

It was brilliant. It was one of the most magnificently boneheaded things I had ever seen. At the time, I had no idea it was an ill-fated attempt to wrest control of the Company, but I knew it was amazingly bad. If I could paint a picture, it would never do justice to the sheer look of terror on the faces in that room. Goon went white. Lieutenant appeared, without exaggeration, to have shit himself. Interns were speechless. Pappy looked as though someone just cold-cocked him.

I, on the other hand, had to do everything in my power not to laugh. Not to smile. Not to burst out crying tears of joy. “This is it!” I thought. “This is the fucking end! I’m free!”. If anyone here is familiar with the Gnarles Barkely song “Go Go Gadget Gospel”, understand that this was the song blasting in my brain as this scene took shape. For anyone who is unfamiliar, go listen to that song and come back when you’re done. You will not regret it, it’s fantastic.

In that instant, the krakens hold had been released. It curled back it's tendrils and sunk back down beneath the slowly subsiding tides. It was like I could breathe again. I could smile again. I felt... Joy.

Once I had learned the truth of the matter via an impromptu GotoMeeting in Goons bedroom-office, I was slowly taken over with the second emotion that adorns the title of this post.

That son of a bitch had gone nuclear... without me! Of all the no good, low down... Hes gambling with my future! Without even so much as considering bringing me in on it!

The nerve!

I’ll back up a bit here, and fill in a bit more about my personal situation at the time. Working at this job, it had begun to take a real toll on me. I love to program, I really do. But this job had beaten that love to the ground. I didn't have the energy to even think about working on anything other than my job. Personal projects atrophied. Desire to invest in my own intellectual curiosity was diminishing. Added to this, I was incredibly underpaid. I was barely breaking even covering rent and bills and the other expenditures of life. All the while, my friends were sending me job listings for positions I could fill standing on my head; positions that paid a hell of a lot more than I was making now. So, it began to occur to me that I needed a way out. I needed a guilt free way to jump ship without feeling bad if I caused the whole thing to collapse. This may sound like I’m the one with his head up his ass, but when most of the people you work with tell you that they couldn’t see a company without you there, including a Pappy who wants to shut the whole thing down, you tend to see yourself as having some relative importance to the operation as a whole. That importance meant a lot to me, and I didn’t want to just abandon these people. I was loyal to my Boss, who also by now a friend, and I couldn’t imagine leaving him high and dry. In fact, I had confided in more than one person that if it weren't for my loyalty to my Boss, the only person more overworked than myself, I would have left the job by now. I had been soldiering on, and keeping my head down in hopes that either things would get better, or finally collapse under the years of neglect and maltreatment.

In that joyous moment of betrayel, I had been cut free from the beast that held me prisoner.

Collapse had begun... but I still had to make my escape.

The way out

When we last left off, Boss and Wizard had taken their leave, in an abrupt and ill conceived attempt at ousting Pappy.

In a bittersweet moment of career triumph, I became the New Boss, complete with a shiny new and completely meaningless title (Head of Development, thankyouverymuch) to add a bit of candy to my resume. As anyone who works in these kinds of companies will tell you, however, titles only exist to get you fired.

Luckily, I had begun making plans to avoid such an ill-fitted ending to my tale. That night I had put my resume on Dice, and by the next day, I received so many phone calls that I had to take it down. If there was one thing this job was rich in, it was experience; My resume was now bursting with dozens of accomplishments, making the paltry sheet of paper I had to my name when I first arrived at this job look like a piece of scrap paper. Of the numerous calls I recieved, I was put in touch with two respectable headhunting agencies who had "plenty of jobs for a guy like [me]". “We’ll be in touch”, I told them, and started a slow process of meets, greats, and phone calls. It's interesting enough to note that one of these companies now was home to the very same recruiter who originally landed me at SleepyTown, several years back by this point in our story. He personally called me up to say he recognized me from my resume, and was thrilled to see my career had taken such a fortuitous turn as to grant me my current title at such a young age; I'm just shy of 30 at this point in my life, and just shy of that at this point in our story. To see a man of my age with such a title certainly opened a few eyes, and I was more than happy to let people believe it was due to my impeccable skillset, rather than some twist of fate.

If they only knew the truth...

Meanwhile, the Company limped along at a reduced capacity. I tried my best to keep Goon busy with interesting work, who was surprisingly susceptible to taking my general orders. Mind you, I wasn’t trying to boss anyone around, but I had things expected of me, and so I needed to delegate. New features, somewhat fortunately, slowed to a crawl - the focus now was on stability and scalability; something we hadn’t focused on in a long time.

It was around the end of November when our tale really hits it's home stretch. I was sitting at my desk, working from home as usual (despite the upheaval, I had convinced Pappy it made sense for us to remain working from home for now, with the promise of coming into the office starting in the new year). My phone rang; Pappy needed to talk. He informed me that he was going to be in my area, and wanted to have a lunch with me.

“Sure.” I replied, nervously “What about?”
“Oh, nothing bad. We just haven’t touched base recently.”

Seems harmless enough...

So, after my girlfriend made a whirlwind attempt at cleaning our apartment (lest he see the kind of slobs we naturally are), Pappy and I were off to a local sushi spot. We shared a light conversation about our respective time spent in foreign lands, and he regaled me with stories of family vacations to California with Stepson. Suddenly, he got down to business. We were bringing in 22k every month, and spending 37k every month. At this rate, we were going to run out of cash early in the new year.

In no uncertain terms, he told me that the Company was going down, and a lifeboat would be launched. This lifeboat was to have 4 seats, and they had already been filled: Pappy, Stepson, Lieutenant, and myself. No Goon, No QA, no Twitter and NoIdea. If the new-new Company took off, they’d all be the first to be re-hired, but right now they were just the fat that needed cutting.

By now, I had had enough. I told Pappy that while I was on board to help get them back on solid ground, it was clear to me that I needed a break. If things were really this bad, I told him, I believe it's my cue to leave. It's been too long and too hard on me, and I'm simply not interested in dealing with it anymore. He understood, and said it might be for the best; Given my long history of building and supporting a product that never really took off, a clean break wasn't a bad idea.

Thats mainly what we talked about. Probably 95% of our conversation. The remaining 5% would prove to be the most insightful and crucial pieces of knowledge, that cemented for me that I was infact making the right decision.

Pappy had initially gotten his friends to invest alongside of him in our company. He delivered unto them the same false promises that were delivered unto him, believing that every parrotted word he said was of the highest level of truth. Pappy felt used and mislead by the Companies old guard, and he wasn't sure he was in this for the long run either. "Maybe the best thing for me to do is to hand things over to someone with more experience in this sector", he tossed out.

You snake... You're trying to get me to sign my life away to a company that you're looking to bail on? You don't give a fuck about any of this... You just want to make your friends money back, so you can bail on us with a clean conscious.

This prophecy would begin to fulfill itself shortly.

After this, the trend of conflicting reports kept on rolling. We were ooking good on Monday, and going to close on Tuesday. By Thursday we might be saved, but on Friday we’re going under. Finally, it came time for layoffs. QA, as I had previously mentioned, saw it coming a mile away. Twitter and NoIdea did not, however, and the axe fell quite suddenly upon them. Twitter moved on to work for an international eductional firm, and I'm happy to say NoIdea landed on his feet as well. In fact, I ran into him just a few days ago, getting off the train. We exchanged the names and locations of our respective new companies, and parted ways.

I still have no fucking idea what he does.

Goon was next on the chopping block, and Pappy had wished that I would wield the clever. I, however, had no desire to be the bearer of bad news. I informed Pappy that if he wanted to remain on good terms with Goon in hopes of rehiring him, than he had better talk to him face to face about all this. Pappy let me know that he was going to tell Goon tomorrow morning that he needed to drop his PC off at the office, and that would be the end of it.

So, against what should have been better judgement, I gave Goon a heads up. A self righteous asshole he may be, but I fought and bled alongside with this asshole for years. He didn’t deserve to have a trap sprung on him. I called him up and gave him a tip off. He was furious. Just that morning Pappy told him he was “in” for this new company. Well this was the final straw. When he calls, Goon is going to let him have it. I understood his anger and warned against such an action, but his mind was made up.

The next day, however, no call did come. Nor the next. Nor the day after that.

Goon grew anxious, waiting for the axe to drop. He started to look for new work, but was doubtful he’d find much luck; He didn’t have a degree, and his personal demeanor was not one that lent itself to making many positive first impressions. Still, he was a bright guy and a hard worker. I reassured him he’d have no trouble finding work once he just got passed his anxieties, but the tension in his eyes over the prospect of being unemployed was palpable. Finally, a call came. He was to have lunch with Pappy. I gave him a final warning to let cooler heads prevail, and luckily they did. Pappy went through another one of his trademark changes of heart, and Goon was once more off the chopping block.

This guy changes his mind faster than New England weather.

In the days that followed, Pappy changed course yet again. Things were going to be ok. We weren’t shutting down, although we weren’t rehiring anyone either. Goon was on edge - Did he have a job? Did he not? I, however, didn’t really care which way Pappys wind was blowing that day; I knew my time was coming to an end, and I had the interviews lined up to prove it.

Day in and day out I would tell Goon to get his job search underway. He feigned interest in my concern, but I could tell all was lost for him; He has few interview prospects, and he grew more and more fearful about his situation as the days went on. This was his only option at the time, and he bought into Pappys current plans, hook line and sinker. I told him over and over again: Don't count on Pappy. Don't bet on him sticking around in the new year. He is gone once he pays his friends back.

Again, Goon merely feigned interest in my warnings.

I must reiterate that I really did feel bad for Goon at this point. I tried my best to explain that his future with Pappy would be limited to being sold to whoever he could find to pick up the pieces, and that he could find better work. I even offered to set him up with one of the two agencies I was using (I couldn't give away all my secrets, you know). But he decided to join Team Pappy and see where he could lead things. After all that Pappy had put him through, he still decided to follow the mans plan.

Eventually, Pappy let me in on the fact that he was shopping the company around to a woman we had done some business with in the past. She was a rising star (which will also be her pseudoname) in our local startup scene, and she was interested in what we did. She had an idea to use some parts of the system for a new purpose, and toss out the rest of it. Pappy didn't tell everyone what her actual level of involvement was; she was billed as a new partner, coming to help guide us in a new direction. Privately, he informed me of his hopes that this woman, Star, would buy him out and provide his exit, leaving the rest of the company in the hands of those few employees remaining.

Fine and Dandy, I thought - but I've had enough. It was the week of Christmas, I had been on a few interviews, and gotten an amazing job offer that made my current situation look like I was toiling away as child labor in Calcutta. I reaffirmed to Pappy that I was here to support him until the end of January, but after that, I was out. I could not agree to join this new plan long term, but I wasn't going to leave him high and dry. He had my full support, for as long as I could give it. He took it surprisingly well, at the time, and let me know that my plan was fine with him. I continually reassured him that I was as on board to help transition from old to new, with a definite cutoff date for my own security (and sanity). I chose not to tell him about the new job just yet, opting to enjoy the quiet dignity that comes with playing your hand close to your chest. For now, all he needed to know was that I had reached my limit. There was simply nothing he could put on the table tempting enough to keep me going.

He agreed that it made sense for me to leave, that he felt it coming, and there were no hard feelings. We were to get right to work on documentation and interviewing replacements. Once goon found out I was leaving for certain, he finally made a second but short lived attempt at job hunting. Pappy pressured him into officially staying on "a few months more", to work on Stars' New Project. Since he was fresh off of a failed interview, he decided to stick it out, so long as he got to head up the New Project and have full control over its direction. Pappy happily met those terms, eager to keep his last remaining developer.

That same day I also was sat down, with the hopes of tempting me one last time. Exciting things were happening, I was told. Keep an open mind, Pappy pleaded. Star had plans, and she was going to take us places. Well, most of us. Pappy had made it abundantly clear by now he was looking for his own exit strategy, as soon as he got enough money to recoup his investments, and those of his friends. This Star was going to come in and be a better CEO than he ever was! Now... what do you say?

"No thanks. I'm just not interested."

The look on his face was one of sheer betrayel and dissapointment. He couldn't believe I turned him down. It was then, at that historic moment, that Star came in the room. Pappy looked at her and said "Well... he has decided not to stay with us anymore, so you have no reason to meet with him."

Ill admit; That hurt.

To boot, I felt it was also one of the least professional ways I had seen someone in his position act since a company Christmas party at my old post-grad stomping grounds, the Old Company; where the first man I would come to call my CEO made me dance with his secretary while he and 2 other guys watched.

Seriously. That happened. It was every bit as awkward as it sounds.

This was especially jarring because I hadn't just up and quit, we talked about it over and over again. We agreed it was what was best. I gave him over a month, instead of the standard 2 weeks. What's more, Star and I had been emailling for over a week about the product, answering her questions about our product, and trying to help guide her as to what she could and could not do with it.

But now, I'm out. As of that moment, I was disinvited to any and all company meetings, and was ignored by Pappy for several days. I was working from the office in these final days full time, and so it was definitely a little anticlimactic to see myself marginalized so quickly from a company that I had spent years pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into.

After several days, he brought me to lunch to ask why I was leaving and if I had a job lined up. I took this oppurtunity to come clean about the job waiting for me, explained all the many ways this offer made sense to me over staying here, and stating in no uncertain terms that I was leaving on the date we agreed upon. He took this well, and flip-flopped back to telling me maybe it was for the best. I told him it definitely was.

As my time came to a close with the Company, I had two major projects on my plate.

The first was documentation, which meant writing down everything I knew into several documents, and doing write ups on various parts of our system that I was deeply intimate with. The second was comprising a list of orphaned services that we no longer needed, but still paid for. I'm purposfully obsfuscating the true nature of this task for the sake of anonymity, so the description very much belies the rote agony that was suffered upon me. We re-sold particular services to clients as a feature of our product, but we had no method of cancelling or suspending access, nor did we have any real record of what was or was not in active use.

In other words, for almost 4 years we had been selling something that we weren't bothering to turn off when the client stopped paying.

While I toiled boredly over these tasks, Pappy mainly left me alone. He came by one day to check up on my status. Seeing the wealth of documentation I had, and the progress I had made on the orphaned services, he said to me “Well, things are looking pretty good! You might not want to leave after all!”, and gave me a pat on the back.

Fat chance.

I looked dead him in the eyes and said “Sorry, but this isn't that exciting.” and went back to my work. In the days that followed, he began to panic about his situation, and drop hints that I “couldn’t leave with so much in the air” and how he felt like “The days are slipping away from us”.

He was going to try and get me on the hook to stay longer, I just knew it...

As my final week of work began, I braced for the worst.

The End

And then...

Nothing.

No bang. No massive emergency. No final play for me to stay on.

Dear readers (of which there are precious few), nothing would please me more than being able to end this story on a thunderous note; To tell you the tale of the proud knight, carrying sword and shield in hand, desperately fighting against the tides of evil. To say that it all came down to a bitter clash between myself and Pappy. I only wish I could end the story on such dramatic a note as a final confrontation between myself and some malignant force, but alas; Life has a funny way of never giving you quite what you'd expect.

My final week wasn't a week at all. It was 2 partial days, spent mainly crossing the t's and dotting the lowercase j's on my documentation, and making sure as much of the client cleanup task I had been saddled with was delivered to Pappy for his finishing touches.

That, and backing up all of my personal files (I had quite a collection of hilarious images saved on that work PC, and i'd be damned to see them all go to waste like this).

Pappy didn’t want to pay me to sit around and “twiddle my thumbs”, and I was keen on leaving as soon as I could, lest I get caught in what I felt was the inevitable snare. All of the potential tasks he may have needed of me were more than within Goons realm of control, and with my documentation and client clean up taken care of, there was little for me to do other than act as tech support. Goon had already eagerly begun working on Star's New Project, believing Pappy's word that he would only need to support our dwindling customerbase on the old project for a short time. I'm jumping the gun here, but it should come as no surprise that Star's New Project only lasted a few weeks. Goon was right back to working on the old project again in no time.

I tried to warn him.

He really just didn’t listen.

On my last day, Goon and I met on my way to the office. It was snowing, as it had just 2 days prior, and a week before that. Not that anyone cares, but my wipers were getting worn, so I dropped my car off at the dealership which was conveniently located close to our office. As I tromped my way there, I turned a corner onto the street that was home to our office, and saw him coming my way. He smiled and waved, I did the same.

“Internets down.” He hailed.
“No shit?” I replied, not actually doubting him.
“Yea, I’m headed home, can’t get shit done from there.”
I smiled. “It’s most likely my last day - CEO doesn’t wanna pay me to sit around doing nothing.”
“Yea, I heard” he beemed. He looked a little too happy.
I shot him back a wide grin. “All I can say is - Have fun!”

“I am, man!” He exclaimed, clearly missing my point. As of this time, Star had not yet made her quick escape, and so Goon really was having fun working on this new project. 

“Well, it’s been a pleasure” I partly fibbed, extending my hand. We shook goodbye, and went our separate ways. I smiled widely as I walked toward the office, laughing to myself. “I tried to warn you...” I said under my breath, and trudged on confidently as I walked one last time down the street I had so earnestly searched for 4 years ago.

I remembered then, that warm sunny late afternoon when I first went looking for an obscure little street a few blocks from my home. Making my way back through the snow, it almost seemed surreal. I could feel the smile crawl across my lips as I thought fondly on that day, the interview with my Boss, talking about all the things the Company planned on doing; All the exciting technologies I'd get to play with. Working with a bunch of guys who I felt were genuinely impressive.

My smile grew even wider with each step towards our office, as I thought of how all those great men eventually fell to earth, knocked down by the harsh arrows of reality. I could feel the crisp, cold air shock through my lungs as I thought back on everything that had transpired.

Here it was, the end of everything

All the great friendships I had made.

All the great experience that I had earned.

All the battles won, both mighty and miniscule.

All the battles lost, both in blazes of glory and moments of sheer defeat.

I'll save myself from the trite notion that the moment was rather zen, in a sense, but I will say it was one of the most interesting feelings I've gone through to date. It quite literally felt as though weight began to shed off of me. Even though I had known this day would come, I was still unprepared for how it felt.. And with each step closer, I began to let go even more. My attachment to this place slid off of my shoulders with each step through the snow filled sidewalk. The kraken had finally loosed it's grip upon me, slithering it's tentacles back into the abyss from whence it came.

The damndest part of it all was what happened once I made it inside; which is to say, nothing at all. Everything I had been through... and it all culminated in a last day that will go down in the record books as the most uneventful day of work in anyones life. I cannot summarize it better than with the following sentence:

I arrived, made a few phone calls, had a few quick chats, stole a DVI cable (To this day, I'm genuinely sorry about that; It was a cheap move, and i'll gladly pay it back if need be), got my hilarious image collection backed up, and bid adieu to the job that defined who I was for nearly four years.

I entered this job as a young developer, believing I could meet whatever challenge faced me. I had left a man knowing that this was true, proving it to myself by the time I was finished. For years of my life, I fought a losing battle against insurmountable odds. Every day I dug in my heels, rolled up my sleeves, and gave it everything I had. I tried my hardest to make our Company succeed.

And I failed.

And I'll never be happier for it.

In losing my "success", I gained something much more valuable. I gained confidence in my ability to create. I gained the knowledge that I can trust these 2 hands to take imagination, and craft it into reality. I may have been on a losing side, but I consider myself a winner nonetheless. No one can take from me the priceless level of experience gained through this experience.

And I'd encourage anyone here reading to take this advice to heart. You'll learn more about what you're capable off in a single day in an environment like ours, than you would in years at some job where you're just a nameless drone. As hellish and miserable as it was at times, I can't think of a single better way to have honed my skills for such a period of time.

Did I emerge from this torturous cocoon a finished product? Am I the dev who is going to wow you with the world's most elegant code? Will I become some legend in my time, thanks to my indestructible programming chops?

Fuck no.

I'm not nearly a big enough asshole. I'm just a guy who has the power to build, and I have the respect and humility to realize that it's a life long journey to harness it into something truly masterful. These years of my life were but a drop in the bucket to what's in store. The distance I've come, both personally and professionally, during this time pales in comparison to whats in store.

I can truly appreciate that now. All thanks to fighting a losing battle. Fighting it with everything I could muster. Believing, that no matter how many of my friends told me I was an idiot, that I could make this company work.

But that was over now, and so I grabbed my backpack, waved my goodbyes, and descended those familiar flights of stairs one last time. I pushed the lobby door open, and stepped outside into the brisk afternoon air. As that warm sun shone down upon me, kicking up a fresh dose of glare to remind me that nothing in life comes without compromise, I began my stride back down the street for the last time. 

I was finally free.