BOARD OF DIRECTORS

Miles hired a board of directors. He wanted their help—what to wear, where to shop, what to eat—thought they might help him get a girlfriend. They sat at a long wooden table that he moved into his apartment and voted all day long. One week in, during a budget meeting, he realized that his CFO was familiar, was in fact James Toblowsky, who he’d known, vaguely, in High School. James, he said, don’t you remember me? James cleaned his glasses with his necktie. Miles, he said, Nostalgia is counterproductive. Miles nodded. He knew he was in good hands.