Airplanes.
Amar recalls:
Five years ago I was living with Angi in the Inner Richmond. I think she woke me up, I can’t remember for sure. We watched the towers collapse on TV. It was like watching a movie. Sapient called and told us not to come in.
The last sentence reminds me of the contrasting reaction I experienced at the office.
There was a big product group meeting scheduled later that day (or was it the next day?) that was very sparsely attended. I was there, the junior PM was there, and the Big-Shot VP in charge of the team, in addition to maybe one or two other engineers.
(Aside: The Big-Shot VP used to be very friendly with the engineering team, back in 2000 when he started as a Much More Reasonably-Sized Shot Project Manager. A year later, things were not going so well for Be; our big project had just imploded, our stock was in the toilet, and—although there was at least a chance of continued employment for the surviving employees—the office laser printers were seen to spit out résumés more and more frequently. Thus our VP wasn’t quite as empowering as he used to be.)
Right. So, we’re at the meeting.
Big-Shot VP: Where the hell is everybody?
[Silence.]
BSVP: Well?
Dan: I … um, I think people are probably a little freaked out and, you know, maybe they’re just staying home today.
BSVP: That’s ridiculous. I don’t see any airplanes sticking out of this building.
[Shocked silence.]
Classy!