Johnson arrived at Jobs's office early that Tuesday and told him about his sudden insight that they needed to reconfigure the stores.
He had heard tales of his boss's intemperate tongue, but he had not yet felt its lash—until now. Jobs erupted.
"Do you know what a big change this is?" he yelled.
"I've worked my ass off on this store for six months, and now you want to change everything!"
Jobs suddenly got quiet. "I'm tired. I don't know if I can design another store from scratch."
Johnson was speechless, and Jobs made sure he remained so.
On the ride to the prototype store, where people had gathered for the Tuesday meeting,
he told Johnson not to say a word, either to him or to the other members of the team.
So the seven-minute drive proceeded in silence.
When they arrived, Jobs had finished processing the information.
"I knew Ron was right," he recalled.
So to Johnson's surprise, Jobs opened the meeting by saying, "Ron thinks we've got it all wrong.
He thinks it should be organized not around products but instead around what people do."
There was a pause, then Jobs continued. "And you know, he's right."
He said they would redo the layout, even though it would likely delay the planned January rollout by three or four months.
"We've only got one chance to get it right."