The campuses of the tech industry are famous for their lavish cafeterias, cushy shuttles, and on-site laundry services. But on a muggy February afternoon, some of these companies’ most important work is being done 7,000 miles away, on the second floor of a former elementary school at the end of a row of auto mechanics’ stalls in Bacoor, a gritty Filipino town 13 miles southwest of Manila.
So there I was in Mexico, wintering away in the tiny, stray-dog surf town of Punta de Mita, bored out of my skull, not a single rideable wave predicted for the next week, my time mostly spent in mind-numbing internet excursions, when all of a sudden I wound up on Twitter, reading posts from a guy named the Wolf of Weed Street.
Some 600 fashionably dressed guests arrive at the newly completedPark Hyatt New York (H) hotel, embedded at the base of the tallest operational residential skyscraper in the city. They’re greeted by black-garbed receptionists, who scrutinize them closely to make sure they belong.