They Might Be Pirates.

They Might Be Pirates.

This is a fictional story….probably.

Somewhere in the city on a side street half a block down the metal door opened to a small but modern reception area. On the left two elevators visible. Above on the fourth floor sat a handful of people around an open table and bar. The concrete floor reflects the white walls. Glass separates the rooms and tables are clustered in various corners and under windows.

Everyone in the room was relaxed to a point. They had all met each other at various times in the past. They had all sat down and ate lunch or had a beer with each other in one place or another. Some were dressed like the big city hitters that they knew they were. Some showed a little flash by showing off red socks and others tried to make a statement by not making any statement at all. All black and boots.

He pushed the button for the elevator. As he stood there he checked his phone for messages. There were always messages. The doors opened and he stepped in. He looked at his phone again. He looked up and the number four flashed green. The doors opened and he stepped out. They looked up. Familiar faces familiar smiles.

He was wearing dark shoes jeans white shirt dark jacket. As he sat down they noticed that he had not shaved this morning. They also noticed the cuff links. They glistened sliver with the image of the skull and cross-bones. His eyes were dark as was his hair with just a possible hint of gray. He looked wound up and edgy or maybe it was just the energy he brought into the room.

He leaned back and ran the back of his hand down one side of his face and let out a breath. ” Thanks for showing up everyone. I won’t try to take up too much up your time. I do appreciate it”

He leaned forward “to get straight to the point of why we are all here, there has been a lot of talk about consolidation. Consolidation of assets resources technologies and even people. I’m here to stop that talk. What I am here to do is to help band us together. The talk in my opinion is just that talk. Everyone in this room is at a point of growth. What everyone is asking is when does the money run out? I tell them maybe it never will. Everyone wants to know who ends up making it thru what they see as some sort of bubble. What if a bubble never happens? What if we are at a point now that is so early in a market cycle that no one even thought existed?”

He sat back and looked out the window to his right. As he glanced he noticed what looked like fabric and dresses hanging on racks. Women tall women walked back and forth in front of the windows across the street. Bright lights pointed at the ceiling angled towards the street creating long shadows on the walls. He smiled.

“What I see and hear now is fear. Fear of the possibility. The possibility that any of you and maybe all of you will succeed. The amount of money you are raising is scary. The way you do business is scary. The way you use technology and resources is scary and the way you have no fear is scary.” As he sits his leg bounces nervously up and down. He holds his hands tight together.

“I have been asked personally to help create some of that talk. I won’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s not in me. For some reason there is part of an established hierarchy that just won’t let go. Why they think I am a part of that amazes me. I’m also not here to establish myself as the leader but that may happen. I don’t want it to happen because I am not sure that benefits any of us. Yes, we are stronger together but we are also even stronger as individuals. What I am here to also do is to let you know that we need to help each other grow. I know you think that is what you are doing already. I also know that sometimes it seems like that I am not helping. Part of that may be true but it’s also part of what is necessary to help us all go forward.”

He looked up and turned his head towards the windows again. The one with the red socks sat forward. “What do you mean by consolidation?”

He turned back “just that there is the thought that it can’t last. The money the momentum the marketplace.”

“I get that and you don’t think that matters?”

“It doesn’t matter because a market place is being created that has not existed before'”

“And you believe that?’

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you going to say that in public?”


“What do you want us to do?”

“Just keep doing what you are doing but help each other grow more. Grow the market that you are creating.” He stood up reaching for his jacket.

“Everyone of you is creating a piece of it. You are creating it in your own way. There is no right or wrong way. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are failing. You are not. You are succeeding. You are doing things that have never been done before.”

They all stood up shook hands and headed for the elevator doors, most remained silent. He flashed a big smile and waited for the elevator to fill up. The next one arrived and he stepped in with the others that stayed behind. The one with the red socks looked over and noticed the cuff links again as he pulled on his unshaven face and could not help but think…..

They Might Be Pirates.









Duke Long