Here's Philip, instilled with a new sense of confidence, in front of our brand new (much more professional looking) banner! Hey, I'll give you one guess where we decided to go after we were done for the day...
Here's our totally ghetto-ass booth all set up the next morning at the conference. We ended up taking the "Fucked Company" banner down because we were worried that people might think that we were saying that we were a fucked company because the airline lost our banner - instead of realizing that AdBrite's founder had started a website called FuckedCompany. Da-da-disaster! Instead of trying to explain how we were feeling, how about I just show a close-up of Philip's expression?
One of us had a tiff of the logo on our laptop so we got it blown up super big and printed out on a giant paper banner. We then hand-painted it. The entire time we laughed about how ghetto it is to show up at an advertising themed conference (you know, where people are supposed to be experts on how to advertise) with a fucking paper, hand-painted banner.
At the office on Thursday the printer we were working with showed us a mock-up of the big company logo banner we'd hired them to create and on the mock-up was a test print out they'd done for another customer. We liked him so much we told them not to cut it and hung it up on our office wall.
Before being hired by AdBrite, I'd been using their service to sell advertising on this site - on Thursday morning, I received my very first paycheck for all the ads that had been bought! Wooooo!
I spent most of Monday driving around San Francisco looking for office space for our company so we could start hiring more people (and stop having to commute down to Menlo Park ever day). Office Space #1: Too expensive.
The sticker even goes as far to imply that if you did decide to disassemble the hub, you wouldn't be able to put it back together in working order. Then suddenly, it's like the thing is insulting you and then....it's on.
Hahahaha. Philip needed a haircut before a date and made the mistake of going to some barbershop he found near our work in Menlo Park. The lady that cut his hair did fine up until the end when she busted out the trimmers.
Philip explained: "So she takes them out to do the usual neatening thing they do. You know, even up the neckline...bzz! Then around your ear...bzz! bzz! Then the lady brings the clippers up to my forehead and suddenly I'm confronted by this horribly loud and sustained BZZZZZZZZZZZZ! as she uses the clippers to completely shave off my hairline's natural widow's peak." Hahahahaha. I almost pissed myself laughing. He was like "I went from looking Jewish to looking Puerto Rican in one swift swoop of the clippers!" The laughs continued well into the following weeks as we charted the progress of his "forehead stubble."
My office, day one. (See, I told you these pics weren't going to be exciting. After work each night I'd spend most of my time apartment hunting and trying to be homesick).
Putting labels that read "do not disassemble" is pretty much the dumbest thing you can do in an office full of nerds. No one would have even considered disassembling the wifi hub, until we all saw the big sticker that instructed us not to. Only because it begs the question "Huh, why shouldn't I disassemble it?" (PS - Note how Philip's hand is strategically placed to obscure the forehead stubble. Hahah).
