One of your friends calls you on the phone, bursting with excitement about his latest start-up idea (you know the one). You patiently listen to his description, but respectfully decline to be a part of it. He's disappointed, but understands and promises to keep you updated on the project details. You murmur your assent.
A few months later, he meets you at your work and announces that he has found a group of serious investors, and he needs you to help him build the software he promised them. You again decline, but when discussing compensation, he mentions a number that you can't refuse. A week later, you're on a plane to San Francisco.
In front of the investors (who are, to your surprise, a rapt audience), your friend guides you through the basics of the application. In between the buzzwords ("mass interconnection" and "global community"), you gather just enough to summarize the application in a sentence.
"So, it's a chat room… for everyone in the world… all at once…"
Your friend smiles. "Yes."
You're bewildered by the image of a million strangers all talking at once on the same application, in the same room, but the investors break into applause. As you head for the door, your friend again announces how they'd like to compensate you… citing an even higher number than before. You sit down.