The investors crack the whip and we obey. No matter how they speak to us. It’s a case of Silicon Valley’s golden rule, whoever has the gold, rules.
      But I’m okay, I’m cool. I can always retreat to my office, close the door, put on interesting music, and do some coding. Have a little lunch, enjoy the day. Let it all flow through me like water, just like when I have to deal with my wife’s concern about her family’s investment in my company. You just have to float with it.
      After a couple of days of meditating with the code, I was ready to find our marketing junior. It seemed to take only minutes. For some reason, most of the available crop were women, and there were dozens of them circling around the industry, a couple of years out of college, smart as hell, hungry, and looking for any chance to work their way in. The one we found was a curvy, young, dark, Latina, named Annamaria, who walked into my office, hiked up her skirt to mid thigh as she sat, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Bob, if you hire me, this will be my second marketing job. I’m knowledgeable and experienced, but I haven’t been at it long enough to become jaded. I work long hours and I don’t waste money.” With a slight raise of one, dark eyebrow, she laughed and continued, “I even know what your competition is doing. That’s how good a hire I’d be.”
      After an hour’s back and forth, I looked at Annamaria closely, trying to decide whether to take a chance on her. She certainly was great looking, although when she smiled she displayed teeth that were sharp, like a barracuda’s. That probably didn’t matter, since I never intended to get close enough to be bitten. Not with Medusa and her clan waiting for me at home. They had major teeth, and I was already far too close to all of them.

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