It was as one of those moments of supreme clarity. As I turned the corner on the fourth floor of a dingy SOMA building and walked into the place, my heart just kinda stopped.
And I stood there, looking over the expansive space. Macintoshes were everywhere. Hot pink ethernet cables formed a spider web on the ceiling. Everyone seemed to be in their twenties. Spearhead was playing on the office stereo. It felt like my college computer lab but twice as big and on acid.
I knew that I had to work here.