Story by J.J. Krause
Bootcamp
The rain had returned, but Karen was too busy to care. She tore through the streets of South Lake Union in her white Tesla, searching for a spot. She saw a car leaving ahead and stomped on the accelerator.
Perfect! Right in front.
She parallel parked haphazardly—someday the software would do this for her, but currently it was just too slow—and she dashed out of the car toward a building with the ground floor encased in glass. The glass was emblazoned with white lettering: “JOIN THE HUSTLE. THE BEST WORKOUT IN THE WORLD.”
She pushed through the door, under text in the same font that read, “BARRY’S.”
It was empty inside except for two women behind the front desk. Karen power-walked toward them to check in. Luckily, she was already in her workout clothes—matching purple Lulu tights and tank top. Her bellybutton peeked out provocatively between.
“Go right in! They’re about to start,” said one, flashing searingly white teeth.
Karen pushed through a set of doors and entered a windowless interior room: a room also wrapped in glass, but this time floor-to-ceiling mirrors, reflecting rows of treadmills, rows of benches and dumbbells, and rows of amped-up bodies in their sexiest fitness apparel, illuminated under red lights. The thump of bass reverberated against the mirrors.
Karen felt her heart rate pick up. The Red Room!
“We have one more! Find a spot, Karen!” a voice boomed through the air. Karen beamed—he recognized her! The instructor was Conner, a hairless jock in his late twenties wearing high-thighed shorts and a black tank top which accentuated his bosom. Karen was one of his regulars (or vice versa); she always tried to book his class if possible. And she followed him on social media, which was titillating, to say the least.
Behind Conner’s torso, a short, mousy woman was waving frantically. Karen made eye contact, contorted her mouth into an expression of excitement, and shook her fists in her direction. “Will see you after!” she mouthed, gesturing toward the door, and the woman gave two thumbs up.
The music began. It was a remix of Beyoncé’s dance song, BREAK MY SOUL. Karen poked at the plus button on her treadmill.
In the mirror, she watched herself start to sprint with perfect form, but suddenly felt her stomach drop. She mouthed the word, Fuck! She’d forgotten her Apple Watch. The class was now basically a waste—it wouldn’t show up in her fitness stats for the week. And she wouldn’t see if she got a Slack message. But it was too late to fetch it. Beyoncé had begun.
A third of the class was male, and they peeled off their shirts immediately. Karen glanced at them in the mirror; they didn’t glance back. The humidity began to rise. Conner roamed the room, shouting instructions and demonstrating floor moves. The whole class—especially the men—followed his movements and paid close attention when he arched his back, pushed out his buttocks, and dropped into a squat, perfectly timed with the beat. It was “Abs & Ass” day, one of the most popular classes of the week.
When she wasn’t looking in the mirror, Karen checked to see how fast her neighbors were running, confirming her pace was two miles per hour faster than either treadmill beside her. This was why she did Barry’s—to push herself. Yes, it was expensive, but it was worth it. It was a fraction of the cost of a trainer. And it gave her the chance to get out of the house, and a break from her screens.
But she wondered if anything was blowing up at work… she really needed to keep her Apple Watch on at all times. How did she forget it?
Conner instructed the class to switch positions. As she jogged to the bench, Conner raised his hand for a high five. As their skin made contact, she felt a rush of adrenaline. Barry’s is definitely worth it.
“You don’t shower there? Not even for the free Malin + Goetz?”
“No, I always shower at home.”
“Well you still look great, even after Barry’s.”
“Aw thanks, so do you, Beth!” Karen said, noticing strands of gray in her friend’s still-wet hair.
Karen and Beth were having a drink at the CitizenM hotel bar, down the street. Karen would’ve preferred her usual “Superfood Flex” smoothie at the Barry’s Fuel Bar, but Beth had insisted on going somewhere else. Now Karen was drinking a sugar-free iced tea, absolutely starving. Beth was sipping white wine.
“It’s a neat hotel, right?” said Beth, gesturing at the lobby, which looked like an Urban Outfitters showroom.
“Yes, and so convenient for you, to Amazon.”
“For sure,” said Beth, “Karen! It’s so good to see you!” Her eyes lit up. Severely dehydrated from “Abs & Ass,” the wine was hitting quickly. “It feels like forever!”
“Only two years… but they fly, don’t they,” Karen said.
All around the CitizenM lobby, Big Tech Workers were checking their iPhones. The crowd was full of thick-lensed glasses, baggy jeans, and peculiar brand choices. Beth, who took full advantage of Malin + Goetz in the women’s locker room, was wearing a Gucci belt.
I guess her cash comp is decent, thought Karen.
“I miss the old days,” said Beth, “We had fun in SF.”
“For sure.”
“I mean, I know CardBox didn’t turn out the way we wanted, but we learned.”
“Personal CRM is tough. And hey, the acquihire put a lot of people in good places,” Karen said, trying to ignore a pang in her stomach.
“You’re liking your new startup? It sounds way more interesting than Amazon.”
“It’s good!” said Karen, a little too enthusiastically, “They’re giving me tons of responsibility around product. We’re still trying to find fit, but the space is so dynamic. Crypto is moving fast. There are so many opportunities.”
“You’re Head PM?” asked Beth.
“VP,” Karen corrected her, “VP of Product.”
“Incredible. And I’m still doing account management!” Beth said, taking a big swig of her wine. “Maybe some day you’ll have to poach me.”
Oh God no, Karen thought to herself. She’d never hire anyone even remotely associated with CardBox for any role.
“I’m sure you’re great at Amazon. It’s a great company.”
“It’s big… maybe a little too big for me. How many people are on your product team?”
Karen shifted on her stool. “Well, we’re growing, but still early-stage. So, just a—one—person on the team right now, besides me, but I think I’ll have headcount for five or so by the end of next year. We’re trying to keep it lean.”
“Totally. Makes sense. That’s so exciting.”
They both took a breather and looked around. Beth broke the silence. “And you’re liking Seattle? You bought a house? That’s so crazy!”
“It’s better than I expected! Ed’s happy with his commute, and we put Albie in a great school, one that really caters to gifted students. And the weather isn’t so bad.” Karen glanced outside at the drizzle and immediately thought of her income tax savings. “I mean, it’s not SF. And it’s definitely not New York. But I end up traveling back to the Bay sometimes for work. We’re hybrid-remote.”
“We’ll have to get drinks in on Valencia next time you’re in town.”
“For sure,” said Karen, “and we can do Barry’s again!”
They closed out their tabs, each needing to get back to work.
Back in the Tesla, zipping up Denny, Karen thought about Seattle. She did like it… she liked her house, and her Barry’s instructor. It was a great city!
But was it a Tier 1 city?
She needed to be around movers and shakers—her tribe. SF had some of them, but even SF was a downgrade from to New York.
New York… now that was a city. It was her spiritual homeland, even if she only spent a year and a half there. A city with energy, with an edge! The Greatest City on Earth.
There must be movers and shakers in Seattle, thought Karen, Seattle has big businesses, like Amazon, Starbucks, and Nordstrom. Everyone forgets Nordstrom! And Microsoft in Redmond! And Costco in Issaquah! These are huge corporations! Maybe HashSpark will open an office in Seattle when it gets bigger. Or maybe Christoph will move the headquarters north. There are tax benefits to consider…
The Bloomberg of Crypto, built in Seattle, Washington. It would be a great writeup in Forbes. Karen beamed—maybe it was the endorphins from Barry’s, but she had a very good feeling about it.
CASCADE 1: Going Downhill | A Failed Homosexual |.Crypto Karen | New Neighbors
CASCADE 2: Madison Park Beach | Home Economics | Morning in Bellevue
CASCADE 3: Bootcamp | Zoom and Slack | Cal Anderson Park
J.J. lives in Seattle and can frequently be found on foot trekking up and down hills, stopping only to record one-liners and half-baked ideas.
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