Saturday afternoon, we meet to assemble The Triangles at Noisebridge, a venerable third-floor hacker space on Mission Street close to my favorite fabric store. The group lays out the six triangles in a giant hexagon, zip-ties them together, and hangs the collection a few feet off the ground in front of Noisebridge’s window.
We install the Triangles for a corporate client who celebrates a recent public stock offering with an evening party for its employees, the members of Noisebridge, and the general public. That I just applied to work at this corporation is not coincidental. I hope the Triangles impress more than my weak resume.
Just after nine in the evening, Greg, Rob, and I return to Noisebridge for the start of the party. We’re friends of the company and the blue-collar LED maintenance crew for both the Hexes and Triangles. If only every party could run like this one: free kegged beer, free cocktails, free snacks, and even free chocolate cake.
We listen to two bands comprised of employees. In the back, a madhatter group serves a flight of four teas. In a side room, people paint oils on stretched canvases. We happily struggle to define the event. Is this a corporate function, a party, a rave, a dance, a cocktail party, or all of the above?
The night grows late, almost to three. I’m bouncy and ebullient, yet worried to say too much to possible coworkers. Unlimited cocktails mean trouble. Greg and I depart into the night. Tomorrow is another day in which we’ll load the Triangles back on top of my car.