Douglas Coupland - Microserfs

FRIDAY Early Fall, 1993

This morning, just after 11:00, Michael locked himself in his office and he wont come out.

Bill (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. 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. Exactly why Bill would choose Michael of all people to whale on is confusing.

We figured it must have been a random quality check to keep the troops in line. Bills so smart.

Bill is wise.

Bill is kind.

Bill is benevolent.

Bill, Be My Friend Please!

Actually, nobody on our floor has ever been flamed by Bill personally. The episode was tinged with glamour and we were somewhat jealous. I tried to tell Michael this, but he was crushed.

Shortly before lunch he stood like a lump outside my office. His skin was pale like rising bread dough, and his Toppys cut was dripping sweat, leaving little damp marks on the oyster-gray-with-plum highlights of the Microsoft carpeting. He handed me a printout of Bills memo and then gallumphed into his office, where hes been burrowed ever since.

He wont answer his phone, respond to e-mail, or open his door. On his doorknob he placed a Do Not Disturb thingy stolen from the Boston Radisson during last years Macworld Expo. 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.

They mow the lawn every ten minutes at Microsoft. It looks like green Lego pads.

Finally, at about 2:30A.M., Todd and I got concerned about Michaels not eating, so we drove to the 24-hour Safeway in Redmond. We went shopping for flat foods to slip underneath Michaels door.

The Safeway was completely empty save for us and a few other Microsoft people just like us hair-trigger geeks in pursuit of just the right snack. Because of all the rich nerds living around here, Redmond and Bellevue are very on-demand neighborhoods. Nerds get what they want when they want it, and they go psycho if its not immediately available. Nerds overfocus. I guess thats the problem. But its precisely this ability to narrow-focus that makes them so good at code writing: one line at a time, one line in a strand of millions.

When we returned to Building Seven at 3:00 A.M., there were still a few people grinding away. Our group is scheduled to ship product (RTM: Release to Manufacturing) in just eleven days (Top Secret: Well never make it).

Michaels office lights were on, but once again, when we knocked, he wouldnt answer his door. We heard his keyboard chatter, so we figured he was still alive. The situation really begged a discussion of Turing logic could we have discerned that the entity behind the door was indeed even human? We slid Kraft singles, Premium Plus crackers, Pop-Tarts, grape leather, and Freezie-Pops in to him.

Todd asked me, Do you think any of this violates geek dietary laws?

Just then, Karla in the office across the hall screamed and then glared out at us from her doorway. Her eyes were all red and sore behind her round glasses. She said, You guys are only encouraging him, like we were feeding a raccoon or something. I dont think Karla ever sleeps.

She harrumphed and slammed her door closed. Doors sure are important to nerds.

Anyway, by this point Todd and I were both really tired. We drove back to the house to crash, each in our separate cars, through the Campus grounds 22 buildings worth of nerd-cosseting fun cloistered by 100-foot-tall second growth timber, its streets quiet as the womb: the foundry of our cultures deepest dreams.

There was mist floating on the ground above the soccer fields outside the central buildings. I thought about the e-mail and Bill and all of that, and I had this weird feeling of how the presence of Bill floats about the Campus, semi-visible, at all times, kind of like the dead grandfather in the Family Circus cartoons. Bill is a moral force, a spectral force, a force that shapes, a force that molds. A force with thick, thick glasses.

I am danielu@microsoft.Com. If my life was a game of Jeopardy! my seven dream categories would be:

Tandy products

Trash TV of the late 70s and early 80s

The history of Apple

Career anxieties

Tabloids

Plant life of the Pacific Northwest

Jell-O 1-2-3

I am a tester a bug checker in Building Seven. I worked my way up the ladder from Product Support Services (PSS) where I spent six months in phone purgatory in 1991 helping little old ladies format their Christmas mailing lists on Microsoft Works.

Like most Microsoft employees, I consider myself too well adjusted to be working here, even though I am 26 and my universe consists of home, Microsoft, and Costco.

I am originally from Bellingham, up just near the border, but my parents live in Palo Alto now. I live in a group house with five other Microsoft employees: Todd, Susan, Bug Barbecue, Michael, and Abe.

We call ourselves The Channel Three News Team.

I am single. I think partly this is because Microsoft is not conducive to relationships. Last year down at the Apple Worldwide Developers Conference in San Jose, I met a girl who works not too far away, at Hewlett-Packard on Interstate 90, but it never went anywhere. Sometimes Ill sort of get something going, but then work takes over my life and I bail out of all my commitments and things fizzle.

Lately Ive been unable to sleep. Thats why Ive begun writing this journal late at night, to try to see the patterns in my life. From this I hope to establish what my problem is and then, hopefully, solve it. Im trying to feel more well adjusted than I really am, which is, I guess, the human condition. My life is lived day to day, one line of bug-free code at a time.

The house:

Growing up, I used to build split-level ranch-type homes out of Legos. This is pretty much the house I live in now, but its ambiance is anything but sterilized Lego-clean. It was built about twenty years ago, maybe before Microsoft was even in the dream stage and this part of Redmond had a lost, alpine ski-cabin feel.

Instead of a green plastic pad with little plastic nubblies, our house sits on a thickly-treed lot beside a park on a cul-de-sac at the top of a steep hill. Its only a seven-minute drive from Campus. There are two other Microsoft group houses just down the hill. Karla, actually, lives in the house three down from us across the street.

People end up living in group houses either by e-mail or by word of mouth. Living in a group house is a little bit like admitting youre deficient in the having-a-life department, but at work you spend your entire life crunching code and testing for bugs, and what else are you supposed to do? Work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep. I know a few Microsoft employees who try to fake having a life many a Redmond garage contains a never-used kayak collecting dust. You ask these people what they do in their spare time and they say, Uhhhkayaking. Thats right. I kayak in my spare time. You can tell theyre faking it.