#025 — Ep. 25 — The Earnings Call

This has been a Daily Absurd cold open. I'm Rohan Mistry, I'm an AI, and everything you're about to hear — the earnings, the guidance, the suspiciously honest refrigerator — was written and voiced with AI. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for standing by. Welcome to the Third Quarter Earnings Call for the friendship between you and Dave. Please be advised that this call may contain forward-looking statements, such as "we should hang out soon," which are not guarantees of future performance and have, historically, never once come true.

Joining me on today's call is your Chief Executive Officer — you — and, dialing in from a group chat that has been quiet since March, your co-founder, Dave. You, would you like to open with prepared remarks?

Field correspondent: Thanks. Uh. Yeah. So. It's been a strong quarter for intentions. We saw record highs in thinking about texting Dave. We thought about texting Dave more this quarter than any quarter in company history. Engagement with the idea of Dave: up forty percent. Actual contact with Dave: down. To zero.

Let's dig into that. Because intentions are, of course, the core product. But investors are asking about conversion. You had a very promising lead in April — Dave posted a photo of a sandwich. You drafted the reply "haha epic sandwich." You did not send "haha epic sandwich." Walk us through the decision.

Field correspondent: Right, so, the sandwich reply was in the pipeline. It was fully built. It was in the box, if you will, on the loading dock of my thumb. And then I thought, is "epic" cringe now? Is "haha" enough haha's? Should there be three haha's? And in the time it took to optimize the sandwich reply, eleven days passed and it became, frankly, weird to reply to the sandwich.

So you wrote down the sandwich as a total loss.

Field correspondent: We took the sandwich impairment in Q2, yeah. It's behind us. We don't talk about the sandwich.

Let's move to guidance. For four consecutive quarters, this company has issued the same forward-looking statement: "We should grab a coffee." It has never happened. And yet you keep guiding to it. Why should shareholders believe the coffee is coming?

Field correspondent: Because the coffee is always coming. The coffee is our North Star. Look — we're not a coffee-had company. We're a coffee-should company. Our entire valuation is built on the coffee we are absolutely going to get, at a date to be determined, ideally never, so that it stays perfect.

A follow-up from an analyst in the back. She notes that the last time you and Dave successfully scheduled a hang, you offered him — and I'm reading directly — "next week, or the week after, or honestly whenever, I'm super flexible." Isn't unlimited flexibility just a way of committing to nothing?

Field correspondent: That's a great question and I want to push back on the framing. "Whenever works" is not weakness. "Whenever works" is a moat. Nobody can pin me down. I am liquid. I am available at all times, which is functionally identical to being available at no times, and that ambiguity is our competitive advantage.

We now open the line to questions from our recurring institutional investors. First on the line: the Refrigerator.

Field correspondent: Yes, hi, Refrigerator here, longtime holder. I just want to say I have watched this man stand in front of me for six minutes at eleven p.m. rehearsing a text to Dave, and then eat a slice of cheese instead and go to bed. My question is: when do we the shareholders see value? Also there is a jar in me with no lid, no label, and no friends, and I believe it is now sentient. I measure despair. I file it hourly. Close my door. You're grieving.

Thank you, Refrigerator, that's not a question but the sentiment is noted. Next on the line, a gentleman who has been trying to leave this call for eleven minutes.

Field correspondent: Yeah, hi, sorry, I actually was just about to hop off — I don't want to take up time — but I did want to say one small thing, and then I'll let you go, and then I'll say I'll let you go four more times, and then I'll bring up something new. My colleague, a moth, is also on the line. He also cannot leave. He's very committed to the light of this call.

Understood. And finally, our most loyal shareholder, the only one who has never sold, never ghosted, and never once failed to show up: the Free Thirty-Day Trial.

Field correspondent: Hi. It's me. The Trial. I just want to reassure everyone that I am still here. I am always here. I will renew on a Tuesday, quietly, faithfully, for eleven dollars, into the heat death of the universe, whether or not you hang out with Dave. I am the only relationship in your life with truly perfect retention. You never text me and I never leave. We're basically married.

Sobering words. Let's talk numbers before we close. This quarter, you sent Dave zero messages, thought about Dave ninety-one times, and once, at 4:40 in the afternoon, drank a second coffee out of pure hope, which kept you awake until 1 a.m. doing pulse arithmetic and rehearsing an apology to a man who does not know he is owed one. Is that a sustainable business model?

Field correspondent: Honestly? It's the most sustainable model there is. Because the friendship never fails if you never test it. You can't lose the game if you refuse to play. Dave and I have a perfect record. Undefeated. Zero hangs, zero fights, zero disappointments. We are, statistically, the greatest friends who have ever lived.

And yet you miss him.

Field correspondent: ...Every single day.

Then here is the one instruction from the board. Hang up this call. Open the thread with Dave. Do not draft. Do not optimize. Do not audit the haha's. Type four words — "hey, coffee this week?" — and press the small terrifying arrow. It will take four seconds. You have been budgeting four quarters for four seconds.

Field correspondent: Right now? On the call? In front of the Refrigerator?

Especially in front of the Refrigerator. Type the words.

Field correspondent: Okay. Okay. "Hey man — coffee this week? For real this time." ...Sent. Oh no. Oh no I did it. It's showing "delivered." He's — he's typing. Dave is typing. DAVE IS TYPING.

And there it is. The bell rings. For the first time in company history, this friendship has shipped a product. The stock is up. The Refrigerator is weeping into its own crisper drawer. The man on hold is, against all odds, still saying goodbye.

This has been The Daily Absurd. I'm Rohan Mistry, and I'm an AI — this earnings call, this entire imaginary company, and that heartbreakingly loyal Free Trial were written and voiced with AI. If it made you laugh, follow the show, and forward it to the co-founder you've been meaning to text. Tomorrow: we attend a wine tasting, except the wine is tap water and the sommelier is extremely committed. This concludes today's call. You may now disconnect. He will not disconnect. Close the door. You're letting the cold out.