Icewire: writing : cruft : Fifty Bucks, Just Like Downtown

Leaving my cubicle to get away from reading 'Fucked Company' and I see the troupe of four. As I approach and come into earshot I hear, ``Fifty bucks, just like downtown.''
``What the hell are you talking about?'' Walking into conversations mid-stream is just a bad idea, particularly in this region of the cubicle farm. But into the breach I go and survival is not in the forefront of my mind. Boredom and the need to get my mind occupied with something however banal is.
``Oh, we were just discussing the economics of love related to geography.''
``Okay, and wasn't there work or something that should be done now?'' A pantomime of managing these cats is necessary before we get too deep. I already know there is nothing to do and soon there would not even be a place to not do the work. Closing down a company is like that. Long moments of boredom which is interrupted by moments of frantic documenting to cover your ass from the investors and ex-customers. Most of us only really show up for lunch and the occasional meeting to hear how we still haven't raised another round of funding. My future comrades in the unemployment line tilt their heads and look at me cross-eyed.
``Sure, boss, I'll get right on doing,'' John laughs, ``the big nothing I have due this week.''
We all laugh, the four of us. Four refugees of a dot com waiting for the final implosion. We have already expended most of our fuel and blown off most of our mass. Huge layoffs getting rid of 90% of the staff is just the peak of our downward spiral. We know that our jobs are now about turning out the lights as much as they used to be about networks.
``Well, I was wondering, since you guys got back from lunch so early. You were gone for only, what, two hours.''
``Yeah,'' Steve chimes in, ``Erin wasn't working today so we decided to head back early.''
``What and Nicole decided to kick you out?''
``She's back in class and only works nights,'' Kevin supplies.
``So, does that mean you guys have run out of wait staff to harass?''
``Don't worry about us, Bob, we've got a contingency.'' John leans forward on his toes and says conspiratorially, ``We brought our guitars.''
And they all wear big shit eating grins. I laugh, ``Well, don't let me stop you. You need the practice since you'll be playing for quarters in a few weeks.''
``You can join us if you want. I brought both a six and a twelve today.''
``No thanks, I think I'll erase some more hard drives,'' and I start walking towards the eerily silent data center.
``Don't forget to put that useful skill on your resume,'' John calls over his shoulder as the group heads out towards the courtyard to start their jam session.