Page 77 of Caught A Vibe

My recent articles have all had a funny bent to them, but I want to write something more substantial, like my breakout article for Penny. Even when I was doing game reviews, I always took it seriously, digging into the structure and authorial choices in the games. I desperately want to write something that engages my brain at that level. And the world feels too fraught right now to do another “best houseplant for quarantine” update. Besides, the snake plant is the only one still thriving.

I want to write something important. Something interesting and real. Something that will make a difference in someone’s life.

The only interesting thing that has happened today is Penny’s revelation that she is on the brink of losing her company because of raw material and capital shortages.

The lightbulb in my head that’s been flickering annoyingly for hours glows dimly as an idea starts to form. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone. Opening a new search bar, I pull up contact information for several venture capital firms that have a track record of supporting tech innovation. Maybe I can get my article done and find data to help Penny out. It’s enough inspiration to break the scroll.

The deeper I get, the more frustrating the results. Everyone is afraid of what might happen to the stock market, the job market, the global market, insert-other-economic-indicator-here, because of the pandemic. The wallets have all closed until they can sort out the new landscape of funding in a post-Covid world.

On the one hand, I can understand their hesitation, but on the other, my frustration for Penny keeps growing. How many other entrepreneurs are being affected by this? I open a survey thread on LinkedUp, and the responses come pouring in. I aggregate the data into a spreadsheet and look for patterns.

The results are stark. Established or late-stage firms looking for funding to bring information technology or healthcare concerns to market are getting money just fine. Smaller first-time applicants, especially women and people of color, are getting shut out of the market. I wish I could say it surprises me, but it doesn’t. I’m not too jaded to feel dismay at the injustice.

“Hey! Earth to Dash!” Penny waves her hand in front of my face.

I look up from my computer, surprised to find that it’s gone dark outside the windows. “Sorry! I got caught up in work.”

“I can see that. I asked what do you want for dinner.”

“Whatever is fine.”

Chapter22

Penny

Isuppress a growl. I wish he would just answer the fucking question! If I have to make one more goddamn decision today, I’m going to snap. Every time I turn around, someone else needs an answer and none of mine have been good ones.

If I can’t get an influx of funding from someone soon, I’m going to close my doors within six months of my initial launch. I don’t have time or energy to be dealing with dinner on top of it all.

“Leftovers it is. You can forage for yourself.”

“Mmhmm. Sounds great.”

Dash has already turned back to his laptop perched on his thighs, engrossed in whatever he’s doing. That’s fine. I can make food for myself, and he can eat when he feels like it. I’m not his mother. Or his wife. Or keeper. He is a grown-ass man who can take care of himself.

Heating up a bowl of leftover green curry, I sit on the opposite end of the couch and click on the TV, desperate to zone out for a little while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“About the show?”

“No, about your funding.”

“What about it?” God, can I please just shut down? I am so over today, and now he wants to chat? Where was supportive Dash when I was spiraling? I could’ve used some funsies to quiet my thoughts. But he was clearly busy with work, so I chose the next best thing, reality TV. I don’t know why watching other people’s lives run off the rails makes me feel better about my own struggles, but it does. The last thing I want to do is replay my failure right now.

“Why do you think it’s been so hard to get investors to sign on?”

Okay, so we’re doing this.I click mute on the mother/daughter modeling duo currently screaming at each other on-screen.

“It just seems like everything has dried up because of the pandemic. I can’t even get people to respond to an email.” I swirl my spoon in the rich sauce as if some sort of pattern will emerge and clear everything up. Unfortunately, my prospects are about as thick and murky as this green curry.

“Well, I did a little digging, and it doesn’t look like it’s dried up for everyone.”

My phone dings in my pocket. Dash sent me a note from LinkedUp. “What’s this?”

“Just a little informal survey I put up, but look at who’s getting funding and who’s not.”

The data in his poll is crystal clear, if anecdotal. “But how many of these were in the pipeline before the pandemic hit?”

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