The two young software engineers clinked their espresso martini glasses together.“Cheers! Here’s to self hosting our own implantation of an open source enterprise observability tool to save us a ton of money!!”“Cheers!!”They each took a sip, but their celebration was short lived. They noticed a darkened figure at the end of the bar. They couldn’t see the figure’s face, but it appeared they had a hunched over back and a dark jacket.The figure spoke up, with a deep voice that had been fine tuned by a thousand cigarettes.“You folks would do well to not self host anything, unless you work at Google,” the voice said, before taking a swig of drink to stifle a cough.The two young software engineers looked at one another before one answered.“Oh yeah? What’s it to you? Who are you anyway?”The figure leaned in from the darkness. It was an older man. He had a beard and incredibly large bags under both eyes.“Let’s just say,” he began, “I was you once, and then I decided to self host an ELK stack, and things, well, things changed.”The other developer, although slightly taken aback, was quick to laugh it off.“Ha! When was that, 1983? Things are different now old man!”The man stood up. He slid a folded note across the bar, and walked towards the exit, but not before stopping for one final word. He put his nicotine stained hand on the shoulder of the developer who’d just called him an old man.“It was six months ago.”He left without another word.