Todd and I walked out onto the side lawn to try to peek in his window, but his Venetian blinds were closed and a gardener with a leaf blower chased us away with a spray of grass clippings. On his doorknob he placed a Do Not Disturb thingy stolen from the Boston Radisson during last year’s Macworld Expo. He won’t answer his phone, respond to e-mail, or open his door. He handed me a printout of Bill’s memo and then gallumphed into his office, where he’s been burrowed ever since. His skin was pale like rising bread dough, and his Toppy’s cut was dripping sweat, leaving little damp marks on the oyster-gray-with-plum highlights of the Microsoft carpeting. Shortly before lunch he stood like a lump outside my office. I tried to tell Michael this, but he was crushed. The episode was tinged with glamour and we were somewhat jealous. Bill’s so smart.Īctually, nobody on our floor has ever been flamed by Bill personally. We figured it must have been a random quality check to keep the troops in line. Exactly why Bill would choose Michael of all people to whale on is confusing. Using the Bloom County-cartoons-taped-on-the-door index, Michael is certainly the most sensitive coder in Building Seven-not the type to take criticism easily. This morning, just after 11:00, Michael locked himself in his office and he won’t come out.īill (Bill!) sent Michael this totally wicked flame-mail from hell on the e-mail system-and he just whaled on a chunk of code Michael had written. About the Publisher 1 Microserfs FRIDAY Early Fall, 1993
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