Welcome to life behind the front desk at a San Francisco tech startup. Job title? Receptionist-slash-office-manager-slash-therapist-slash-human-google-for-where-things-are.
You’d think in a company full of brilliant engineers someone would know how to change the toner on the printer. You’d be wrong.
From my post by the door, I get a front-row seat to the madness. The sales guys come in like they’re on Shark Tank. The engineers shuffle past in the same hoodie they’ve worn for three days, eyes glazed from 4 a.m. debugging sessions. Marketing folks sweep in with fancy coffees and 17 tabs open on their laptops. Founders? They appear like unicorns—rare, dramatic, and always in a hurry.
And let’s not forget the perks:
Free kombucha? Yes—unless the tap breaks (again) and I’m suddenly the kombucha repairwoman.
Nap pods? Sure—if you like napping to the soothing sounds of someone arguing about product specs outside.
Standing desks? Yes—until someone forgets how to lower it and calls me for help.
I once found an engineer asleep under their desk. They claimed they were “thinking deeply.” Another time, I had to stop an overenthusiastic investor from walking into a board meeting mid-pitch. Oh, and there was that one incident with the drone in the lobby. I still hear the buzzing in my nightmares.
Of course, I field the important questions daily:
“Do we have any almond milk?”
“Where’s the whiteboard marker?”
“Who took my mechanical keyboard?”
And my favorite: “Why doesn’t this badge work?”—usually asked while holding up a café loyalty card.
I’m not writing code or raising millions, but I am the glue that holds this place together (and the one who knows where the extra toilet paper is).
The truth? I kind of love the chaos. Every day brings some new absurdity, some small victory (yes, I fixed the printer), and a lot of overheard startup wisdom like “What if we pivot… but keep the same name?”
So next time you walk into a startup and see the receptionist? Be nice. We know where all the bodies (and the snacks) are buried.