MVP


On Dealing with a 25-year Old CEO


“You kids are so used to getting away with lies and misdirection and obfuscation now that they don’t even try to sound plausible.” Jon took a tentative sip from his Margarita, then lowered the glass onto the paper tablecloth, positioning the glass’s foot back to within the circle of its original water ring.

“Back in my day, we typed up epic, detailed back-stories to sound believable.” He took another sip from the glass. “Now, untruths are quickly tossed into the conversation, superficially and smoothly, with little effort or thought, like swiping cards on a Tinder page.”

“Because it works. It feels natural. It just feels right.” 

The glass returned gently down to the paper, then re-positioned back into its ring.

Katie had been been pouring herself a second glass of Margarita, all liquid, no cubes, and thumped the pitcher back down onto the table.

“That’s a rather broad generalization. Grandpa.” she said. “And a rather untrue broad generalization at that.”

Katie saw Jon’s eyebrow raise, which happened whenever he was deciding to be offended or not, and quickly added, “We just do everything faster and better. That’s all. I’d like to believe we’re even more ‘epic’.”

“That recruitment site was created in minutes, a fifty-page site with just, like, three commands and an Envato Bootstrap theme. A lot of the deeper pages are all tech lorem-ipsum, but our client now looks like an international consultant with fifteen years experience already. And we look like rock... that reminds me.”

Katie brought her phone up to her lips and spoke, “OK. Text to Rob. ‘Recruitly’. ‘I’. ‘O’. — whatever it is — change the pictures on about page, they’re still all the same person. Use the older guys in suits we paid for. Make one Indian. From India. Oh, and add on of the younger woman profiles.”

She saw Jon’s eyebrow raise even higher. 

“Listen,” she said. “Stop being that old man that yells at the cloud. What you call lies…”

“Untruths”

“… Everyone else calls marketing. ”

Jon raised his Margarita glass as a toast. 

“Caveat emptor,” he said.

“Lorem ipsum,” Katie replied, deadpan, looking down, now involved with her phone. “Drink up. We’ve got to head back to the office.”