Chapter 3

 

 

 

Craig Bloomingdale was getting dressed, looking at his reflection in the mirror approvingly. He was just putting on his tie when he pricked himself with a pin stuck in his shirt.

“Ow,” he groaned. “Honey, the dry cleaner left a pin in my shirt collar

again! This is the second time they’ve returned my suit with something extra on it,” he shouted toward the kitchen, where his wife was hanging about.

“Honey, don’t forget your lunch! I made your favorite: broccoli with mushrooms!” his wife Monique yelled. Apparently, she hadn’t heard him.

Craig tightened his tie and went to the kitchen.

“It’s the second time I've stuck myself with a pin from the dry cleaner.” He threw the object in question on the kitchen table.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’ll look for another firm. Just, please, don’t forget to come home by eight tonight. Jerald and Abby are coming to visit with little Tim and…”

“Baby, I told you a week ago that tonight I’m seeing my friends from the band I used to play in.”

“I thought it wouldn’t take so long…”

“I’ll try to come back by eleven, but I can’t promise anything.” Craig Bloomingdale was already putting his coat on, taking a pleased look at himself in the mirror. He was ready to conquer the high-tech world.

“Eleven! So late! So I’m receiving the guests alone, then?”

“I’ll call you around ten.” He kissed his wife. At that moment, his little daughter rushed to him.

“How are you, beauty?” He picked her up, and she giggled. “Daddy’s going to work so that he can buy you more toys.” He pinched her nose and then put her down on the floor. He kissed his wife again and went out.

A few minutes later, he was driving to Cisco Systems’ office. As he was going through downtown San Jose, he looked at his schedule; at eleven he had a meeting with the manager of their Beijing branch, at one he had to discuss the budget with Al, and at five there was that super important meeting with Oracle’s executive manager. As usual, the day promised to be awfully tense. For nearly eight years, Craig had been working in the corporate world. He couldn’t complain because his salary paid the bills and fed his three-member family. He smiled at the thought of becoming a father for a second time in six months. What worried him was that he couldn’t spend enough time with his family. Sometimes he worked thirteen- or fourteen-hour days, and he was almost never at home before eight in the evening. For the last few years, Craig had been dreaming more and more about The Four Hour Workweek: he would do only the essential work with a couple of virtual assistants taking on part of his duties and, most importantly, he’d be an angel investor in the new Buffer or Uber. But now, he had to provide for his family and he couldn’t invest even the minimum amount of capital in risky endeavors. That was why he was putting up with his current lifestyle and workload.

He parked his car next to the other managers’ cars in front of Cisco’s office and got out. He was just about to lock it when a small photograph fell on the ground. He picked it up and recognized his old friends from The Jackal: Ashley, Wayne, Chad, and himself. It had been taken several years before. They had already given up on their dream to become the “new rock stars.” Craig examined the photograph more closely – all of them seemed to be smiling and looked more positive than he remembered from their last meeting. When the photograph had been taken, Ashley hadn’t yet given birth, Craig looked younger – he’d just got engaged, and Wayne hadn’t had the anchor beard he was wearing these days. The only one who seemed unchanged was Chad. Craig wondered what Chad was doing now, and then lifted his eyes and headed for the office. Well, he’d find out in a few hours, anyway.