Living the Dream

Warren Buffet is long ukuleles in a bear market.

2009-02-11T08:23:00.000-05:00

2009-01-28T21:44:00.003-05:00

Also, I posted another Stuff Nobody likes piece back in October on Layoffs.

I'm thankfully still gainfully employed... for now....

2009-01-28T21:37:00.002-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, work kind of got the better of me, as well as the holidays, and the start and finish of my last relationship. Incidentally, I just found out that I'm on the blog roll of Dating A Banker Anonymous, which was recently profiled in the NY Times.

I'd like to say welcome to any dabagirls/NY Times readers.

Getting Old

2008-08-11T00:04:00.001-04:00

I have a new post on Stuff Nobody Likes about getting old. If you don't like getting old, take a look.

On why you can't take me anywhere II

2008-07-31T10:45:00.002-04:00

Coworker: "I can't believe you ate horse! Why would anyone eat a horse."
Me: "Its a large domesticated animal, once it gets hurt working or too old what do you think a poor farmer is going to do with it?"
Coworker: "But they're so majestic...."
Me: "They're majestically delicious!"

On vacation, bitches

2008-07-06T13:26:00.002-04:00

I took some time off work and really have no idea what to do with myself. I also discovered that the world won't end if i turn my blackberry off and leave the laptop in the office. Who knew?

I've now read three books, gone to the gym four times and consumed more food and alcohol than what could be considered healthy or rational. Then again it was a holiday weekend, and i went to a party that included:

A roof top kiddie pool full of booze
A keg named Alexander Hamilton
Tri-corner hats a-plenty

And thats just the tip of the iceberg. I can almost guarantee that your party was no where near as awesome as this one. I really don't care if your party involved models, Pacman Jones and Ron Mexico making it rain, a bigger booze budget than Scarface's coke budget and had Daft Punk playing at your house. You lose.

Thank God i have another day to recover.

Freedom! Terrible Terrible Freedom!

2008-02-11T22:50:00.000-05:00

The blackberry went quiet for a whole 4 hours today. The first 30 min i didn't notice, after that i started to get the phantom vibrations and began compulsively checking it, just in case i was missing something. After the first hour I realized that i was free, and set forth to experience the world in a way that i haven't known for a long time.

Suddenly my reprieve was cut short by the obnoxious (and all too real) sound of my blackberry vibrating itself across and eventually off my coffee table, announcing that 67 messages had finally found their way home.

I was sad to see it working again, but in a sick, twisted, Stockholm Syndrome fashion, I was really excited to have it back.

The Earnings Beard

2008-02-09T13:01:00.000-05:00

Come earnings season, many male research associates (and some analysts) begin to rock what has become known as the "earnings beard."*

It starts simply enough. Once smooth faces will go unshaven for an extra day. Then another day, and another, until perma-stubble sets in.

At that point the associate realizes:
1) they're too tired to care
2) no one else really cares since they're not meeting with clients
3) they don't really trust themselves with a razor at this point

Thus the earnings beard is born.

*Of course, this depends on the firm's dress code, but thats a topic for another day. The earnings beard usually goes hand in hand with taking casual fridays to their logical, yet ridiculous extremes.

On why you can't take me anywhere....

2008-02-03T05:19:00.001-05:00

At the Big Obama Party 2/2:

Close talker, drunk and rabid Obama supporter who wouldn't leave me alone: "So, if Obama wins the primary, are you going to vote for him in the general election?"

Me (thoroughly annoyed): "Well, I suppose so.... I mean, now that Giuliani is out of it....."

The look of abject horror on his face and the fact that he left me alone was worth the twinge of guilt that I felt in being a dick.

Making Days Longer

2007-12-29T18:49:00.001-05:00

I've decided to post some other non-street related stuff up here, just to get some content up.
This is also posted on needsmorezazz.blogspot.com

Inspired by Itunes playing 3 CA related songs back to back while on shuffle.

New York I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down - LCD Soundsystem
The Only Boy Living In New Your - Simon & Garfunkel
Going to California - Led Zeppelin
Come Back From San Francisco - The Magnetic Fields
Making Days Longer - RJD2
We Will Become Silhouettes - The Postal Service
Ever Fallen In Love? - The Buzzcocks
Return - Ok Go
Hotel California - Gypsy Kings
LDN - Lily Allen
Amsterdam - Peter Bjorn & John
The Rhumba - Digital Bobby
Latin Simone - Gorillaz
Daft Punk is Playing at My House - LCD Soundsystem (again, i know...)

2007-09-14T21:46:00.000-04:00

Finally moved to NYC.

That is all.

The Five Stages Of Banking

2007-06-19T22:39:00.000-04:00

New bankers (and summer interns) typically go through 5 stages during the early part of thier careers.

Denial

You throw yourself into your work, convinced that by scrubbing comps or managing working group lists late into the night,you're adding value to the deal and making a huge contribution to the firm.

Anger

You begin to fray around the edges as associates, VPs, MDs, and yes, even analysts give you progressively more tedious and inane projects. Homicidal thoughts are entertained when a VP gives you a list of obviously unsuitible comps to add to a model, only to ask to have them removed 3 hours later.

Bargining

At this point the you try to convince yourself that if you can pull one more all-nighter, you'll be able to leave the morass of junior banker-dom behind and transcend to the higher plane of true BSD-hood. Sadly this never happens. Which leads to....

Depression

When an MD has dropped a red streaked Offering Memorandum draft on your desk at 4 on a Friday and wants it done for Monday morning, and you're alone in the office watching the cleaning crew finish, you realize the truth about being a junior banker. Waves of self-doubt and depression erode your confidence until you're a blubbering wreck, alone at your desk save the mocking, yet comforting glow of Excel on your screen.

Acceptance

Eventually, you make peace with yourself for selling out, trading any semblance of a normal social life for a shadow of an existence punctuated by those too short moments when your blackberry stops vibrating. By this point you are a broken, humorless, cynical shell of a man. A modern day Tantalus, you'll be surrounded by money, only to have any opportunity to spend it whisked out of sight, out of reach.
Once you accept this lifestyle and its innate horrors, you will have taken the first and most important step towards being a BSD.

Or at least a 2nd year analyst.

Country Day School Douche-tacular

2007-05-19T22:41:00.000-04:00

After a long Saturday of scrubbing comps (with occasional breaks to pwn n00bz on the Halo 3 beta) I left my apartment to go to my local cantina for a chicken quesadilla, a Sol with lime, and a Don Julio Anejo back. After a quick walk through the bleary Fairfield County weather, I reached the bar, took a seat, and started sipping my cervesa.

The calm before the quesadilla was broken by the scraping of chairs, raised voices, and high pitched giggles. I turned around to find 8 pairs of hot chicks with douchebags seated behind me, acting loud and obnoxious as douchebags are wont to be.

Now these weren't Lee Hotti douches. These guys were the I'm-from-fairfield-county-my-sense-of-entitlement-knows-no-bounds-stepped-out-of-a-j. crew/crombie-catalog-never-left-the frathouse douches. Think Sac from the Wedding Crashers. On top of this, i noticed that they all had name tags that read "County Day School Class of '97."

Now in the interests of full disclosure, i have to mention, that i went to a prep school in fairfield county, and i work in finance. Both of those automatically make me a bit of a douche. However, this qualifies me to comment on such douchiness, as we can smell our own.

Anyway, I decide to not let the baggers get in the way of my unwinding, when the Alpha Douche appears. Unlike his fellow bags, who are wearing golf shirts with popped collars, AD has arrived wearing a ratty t-shirt with underarm sweat stains and way too much cologne. I'm sorry, did i say cologne? I meant AXE body spray.

Since there is already an even hot chick to DB ratio in his group, the alpha douche, after proclaiming loudly to his boys "I'm a hockey player, i don't pick up chicks i bag them," stumbles to the bar and starts to unsuccessfully hit on the girl next to me.

Now the girl sitting next to me is incredibly cute and has shown up with a decent looking, but slightly nerdy guy. As a decent looking and slightly nerdy guy myself, I give the man props and feel for him as the AD starts to ruin his night. My chance to intervene comes when he says "What do you do? I work in investment backing?"

I wheel in my seat to face the AD and butt in, "Really? So do I. What firm?"
He mentions some little boutique trading shop that has no IBD.
I refrain from smirking as I go in for the kill. "So what do you do there?"
"Uh, I work with clients to make sure our trades clear."
"Oh ok, so you don't work in investment banking. You work in Ops at a brokerage that doesn't have an investment banking division. Thats too bad."
Embrassed, the alpha douche retreats to his pack with his tail between his legs. The nerdy guy gives me a nod of thanks, and i smile, knowing that my work here is done.

Swiss Blue Balls

2007-03-20T20:58:00.000-04:00

It starts out innocently enough. Someone complains that the chairs are uncomfortable and it hurts to sit down for an extended period of time. Then their voices start to carry noticeable tension, as the discomfort grows and grows. Finally, they make their appearance, accompanied by furious bouts of pumping, leading to a climax of comfort and relief.

Blue Balls. Big Blue Swiss Balls.

One of my coworker's back problems lead to her purchasing a big blue swiss exercise ball to replace her chair. The next thing we knew was that the girl next to her had one too. Then one of the guys on the other side of the desk got one. The CA office is already over run with blue balls, and the innuendo out here is one punchline shy of a sexual harassment suit.

"Can you come over here and help me pump? Mine's so shriveled and soft"

I'm not even going to get into the discussions about PIPEs (Private Investment in Public Equity)

Overheard

2006-12-25T22:35:00.000-05:00

"Mommy, did Santa move to China?"

"No, Santa lives at the North Pole."

"Then why do all my presents say 'made in China' on them?"

"Because some of Santa's elves are Chinese."

Even Santa outsources.

Happy Holidays.

Where are you dude?

2006-12-15T23:03:00.001-05:00

2006-12-14T21:43:00.000-05:00

There are times when i have serious doubts about working in finance. Or at least as a research analyst. The 12 hr days working on financial models and doing channel checks wears thin pretty quickly. Seriously, how many times can you call supermarkets in Ohio to check on material developments in the meat department before going insane?

"Can i speak with the meat department manager?"
"Do you have the XXXX meat grinder?"
"Do you like it?"
"how many pounds of meat do you grind a day."
"I'm the one asking the questions here."
"Hello? Hello?"

Repeat ad nauseam.

I think about my hipster friends who actually seem to enjoy what they do, despite the veneer of apathy and the confrontational streak anytime politics or music comes up in conversations. I think about the parties they went to on friday night as I work saturdays, excel searing my optic nerve. I think about it every time the traders leave at 4:30.

Than i remember that i have no debt, a 401k and some money to play with, and i feel a little better. I can wear made to measure and bespoke clothes, and scatter lesser yuppies with the blinding power of my Rolex. I can afford cable TV, my rent and xbox live. That makes me smile, especialy when i'm slaughtering people american psycho style on Gears of War.

It still doesn't change the fact i cry myself to sleep. At least i do it on piles of cash.

Cotext v subtext

2006-12-14T21:32:00.000-05:00

Two traders are drinking in the basement bar of Bobby Vans on Broad St when one says to the other “So the seller put out an offer, the first buyer put up a bid then backed away, so I came in and she hit my bid.”

To someone with knowledge of trading terminology, this would literally be translated as
“The seller had provided an offer but the first buyer reneged on their intention to buy the stock, so I came in and she sold to me.”

What it actually means is completely different based on context.
“This girl went up the bar looking for a guy to buy her a drink. The first guy bought her a drink but decided she wasn’t his type and moved on, so I came in and sealed the deal.”

Affirmations

2006-11-26T12:40:00.000-05:00

"Do you think I've become more of a dick since I've started working on Wall Street?"

"You certainly haven't become less of one."

"Nice."

Sales and Trading Lexicon, Vol. 1

2006-11-22T19:49:00.000-05:00

On the tape:

Originally stemming from the act of printing a stock trade on the ticker tape, the phrase "on the tape" is also used to describe the completion or completing any kind of action, especially one involving the exchange of money.

Original usage: "30K shares of ZVZZT went on the tape- who's advertising the sale?"
Ex.
"Enough dicking around! I want to put the deal on the tape by Thursday!"
"The tickets are on the tape, we're all set for the concert tonight"

The phrase can also be used to describe a successful sexual encounter.

"You went out with Mary last night, right? Did you put her on the tape?"

"Look at that smile on her face, you know she put Jim on the tape last night."

Channeling Murakami

2006-11-18T23:45:00.000-05:00

While riding the train home Friday night, I saw the 100% perfect girl for me. I was on a New Haven bound express train facing back, she on a Stamford local facing forward. Our eyes met across two safety glass windows and 3 feet of dark void and we shared a brief knowing smile, recognizing our kindred spirits before cruel fate and the MTA tore us apart. I felt a small emptiness in my heart echoed in the darkness spilling out between Port Chester and Greenwich, and let out a small, pitiful sigh. Would I ever find anyone?

I couldn't let thoughts like that get me down. I had to focus. After all, I was on level 33 of brickbreaker...

Welcome

2006-11-18T23:39:00.000-05:00

I've decided to start a blog.. but first some ground rules:
1) anonymity is key... if you know me, do not under any circumstances post my name on this blog or in a link to this blog. Not even initials.

2) see 1

3) i am writing about my experiences working on Wall Street. I will not post stock advice, "inside information," or anything remotely resembling investing advice. Watch Mad Money if you want tips. I will use the NASDAQ test symbol ZVZZT, when ever i need to refer to a ticker to keep the post moving.

Thats it, please enjoy.

Thanks