We open in a chic, New York city office building. It is midnight, and seventeen men and women, all just barely old enough to be working for an upstart social-networking/micro-blogging service, but still young enough that they get carded when ordering drinks, are gathered around a beeping server. Their brows are furrowed in concentration, and sweat shines off of their American Apparel-clad bodies.
One employee is separate from the rest. He is sitting at a desk facing a Macintosh laptop, completely calm in the face of the Red Bull-fuled frenzy surrounding him. Beneath his Aviators lurk a complicated and dangerous apathy. He is Tumblr founder DAVID KARP (24).
The clock ticks, and soon, the silence becomes too much. MALE EMPLOYEE #1,an MIT grad dressed in jeans and a Deerhunter t-shirt, bursts into tears.
MALE EMPLOYEE #1: Mr. Karp, Mr. Karp!
KARP: Mmm? [Does not look away from computer.]
MALE EMPLOYEE #1: Mr. Karp, the server is crashing. Posts are being lost, tags are disappearing, it’s…it’s panic! Panic on the streets of—on the dashboards of—and somebody let the Tumbeasts out of their cages, oh God, it’s a virtual bloodbath…[His tears become incomprehensible sobs.]
KARP: [muttering] Is that so…
@TOPHERGRACE: [to MALE EMPLOYEE #1] Shh, Kyle, don’t cry! Everything will be fine. [He pauses, and glares in Karp’s direction.] Everything will be fine, right, David? Are you even listening?
@TOPHERGRACE stands up, marches over to where Karp is sitting, and yanks a pair of buds from his ears.
KARP: Aww, shit, I was listening to that!
@TOPHERGRACE: Yeah, well, you also have to listen to your users. There’s a virtual—no, not virtual an in real life mob outside.
KARP: Can it wait until Hipster Runoff is back online? It’s been crashing all the time, lately. Carles is such a douche, I swear…
All seventeen Tumblr employees groan.
TEAM CARLES EMMA
I AM CARLES
drinking like a mexican while listening to angles
lyfe is g00d
P@r+y ova der m3Xi$+yl3!!!1111!11!
clothes are too mainstream so I sleep naked
∆ ∆ hipster lyf ∆ ∆