Every Banker is given a BlackBerry, which he is meant to keep on his person at all times. Often, younger Bankers will receive older models to separate them from their superiors and give them something to work toward. In all cases, however, these devices are intended to ensure real-time messaging and accessibility. A BlackBerry must be both on and within reach so that even if it is “out of pocket,” the Banker it belongs to never is. Some consider BlackBerries to be excessively tethering, causing work to encroach on private life. I don’t really follow the logic.
Peter and his BlackBerry, Peter
Perhaps the most rewarding aspect of BlackBerries is the built-in game BrickBreaker. The premise of the game is simple: move a paddle to destroy targets and accumulate points—not very different from Banking, where we’re taking down deals and trades and aggregating sums of cash. The game is played everywhere: on calls, during in-person meets, and in the bathroom. In a stressful life, it’s a calming, cathartic experience.
The only time you might see our BlackBerries powered off is on an airplane. Actually, that wouldn’t happen—you fly commercial.
Black Cars
Back in my early days, a ride home in a black car was a prize. While a Lincoln Town Car might not be anything extraordinary, it represents the exclusivity that we Bankers cherish.
I earned the vouchers that got me into those cars. Working late didn’t seem so bad when I had a comfortable ride home to look forward to; even waiting in a long line of colleagues in subzero temperatures to get a car while dozens of taxis whipped by me seemed natural. Commoners ride yellow; Bankers ride black.
Being inside a black car was a sanctuary, a well-deserved lordship. I relished treating the driver like my personal bitch, and even more so, I relished looking out the window at everyone else “walking,” or “taking the subway.”
I start in PE next year, and I’m not certain what kind of hitter chariot my PE firm will arrange to take me home at night. But one thing’s for certain: it will be black and appropriately Top-Tier.
Meals
I usually either expense meals at a nearby restaurant or my food comes directly to the office via SeamlessWeb, a Web site that facilitates expensing meals at work. It’s a great utility but must be used carefully.
An Analyst in my group, Caroline, came into Banking with the build of a thin, ex–tennis player, but she immediately became obsessed with SeamlessWeb. Within weeks, she was patting her burgeoning stomach as she clicked around the Web site, salivating over what she might order. She had developed what we refer to in the industry as “SeamlessWeb Belly.”
Caroline and others like her have created a well-defined science built around meal expensing. Most Banks have a set amount that can be spent per individual and, though we’re not cheap, there’s an analytical appeal to maximizing the food one can purchase. We’ll throw in an extra bag of chips or an extraneous Red Bull, just to get as close to the limit as possible. Some Bankers will even apply this strategy at delis, where they’ll try to expense away their household shopping. I heard of a guy at Morgan Stanley who bought razors on the firm but was caught red-handed when he was required to provide an itemized receipt.*
Out of the office, Bankers eat steak dinners. Whatever the occasion—perhaps we’ve finished up a deal, hired or fired someone, or perhaps it’s just a regular Tuesday—we’ll eat steak. High-end steakhouses generate upward of 90 percent of their revenue from Bankers, where bottles of fine wine are paired with fine meat and what our waiter might incorrectly pronounce as “fine-ance conversation.” Spearing a prime slab of flesh reminds me that if we Bankers weren’t tearing down M&A deals and buyouts, we’d be out hunting boar, bucks, or other big game.
Bonuses
Bonuses are the biggest part of Banker compensation. They tend to vary year to year based on the market, but even in bad years they’re still enough to open doors, upgrade yachts, and put you in a special Banker tax bracket.
In Investment Banking, Analysts are grouped into tiers based on reviews. Last year I was Top Tier, meaning that I was the best, and so I got the largest payout of our group’s bonus pool. For others, bonus size is often directly driven by how much money they bring into the firm.
No matter how you rank in your firm, Bonus season is the best part of the Banker calendar. Falling in the summer for Analysts and during the winter for others, it’s a time that retail businesses have to build into their accounting methods and one that compels regular guys to dress up and try to pass themselves off as Bankers. Girls are acutely aware of Bonus season, and, like a Gucci bag purchased from a streetside vendor, they can sniff out these fakes from a mile away.
I know a first-year Analyst who told everyone he was going to “lever up” his Bonus and buy a place in the Hamptons. Other guys purchase Porsches that they park in a garage and get to drive a couple times a year. Both are rational investments, but I prefer to take a significant percentage of my Bonus and throw an elaborate Bonus party where, in the company of some beautiful females, my friends and I can celebrate the rewards of The Greatest Profession on Earth.
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INVESTMENT BANKING ANALYST TIERING
In Investment Banking, Analysts are divided into tiers that dictate compensation. Top Tier is the phrase that every young Banker fantasizes about. Even saying the word bottom in their presence will cause them to stick their fingers in their ears and scream, blocking out any potential tier that may follow, jinx them, and doom them to poverty.
Top Tier: Mark, the ambitious young Banker with an uncanny sense of numbers, gets the largest payout. Valuation is seemingly instinctual to him and a company’s financials are puzzle pieces he strings together to create beautiful works of art. He is polished, appropriate, and charming, and able to heighten and throttle these attributes when necessary.
Second Tier: Susan. Like her, her Bonus is decent. Extremely diligent, works well with others, and shares her knowledge when appropriate. Knows when to speak up and when to be quiet, but lacks that bit of “something special” that separates her from the Top Tier. It is obvious that she has been battling this same issue her entire life, and she acquiesces to her fate. She might perform at a higher level if someone encouraged her and gave her the opportunity, but no Bank is willing to take that risk.
Third Tier: Jason. Receives a paltry Bonus (by Banking standards). Is perpetually nervous and takes short breaks from hyperventilating only to bite his nails. Cannot be taken to meetings or trusted to “take ownership” of anything. Socks occasionally clash with shoes. Also, Amir. Does blow in the bathroom and speaks at length about his passion for DJing house music.
Bottom Tier: The dude that just got fired, left crying, and had to be chased after by security to repossess his BlackBerry, whose screen reads GAME OVER.
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COMMENTS FROM leveragedsellout.com
My current score is 57,897,175 and I have 4,516 lives left. I hope I don’t die anytime soon because I haven’t eaten or drunk anything or even slept for nineteen days straight. In case I do die while doing this, does someone want to continue my game on my BlackBerry for me? Who’s down? The handoff might be a bit tricky since I would like to play until my last breath…
My MD can’t even look me in the eyes when he talks to me anymore…
POSTED BY GOD, FEB 22, 5:44 P.M.
All comments are real and unedited.
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FACT #12
It’s all Jersey to me.
Geography
NEW YORK IS the only true Banker city. It’s where all the magic happens.
Other cities revolve around their own puny industries, but in Manhattan, finance is center stage; the residents are either humbly serving us or trying feverishly to get in on a piece of the action. Bankers own all the best real estate and run the most exclusive private clubs. We are the lifeblood of the city, dictating trends and serving as the hub for all major social gatherings.
“Wall Street” and “Midtown” are not concepts here; they a
re physical places where the presence of Bankers is truly palpable. For residences, we primarily choose the prestigious: the Hill (Murray Hill), the Buy Side (Upper East Side), FiDi (Financial District), and a few other select downtown neighborhoods we deem worthy of gentrification. For older financiers, Westchester, New York, and the nicer areas of Connecticut offer comfortable Banker suburbs where children may play safely in the streets.
The World of Banking
Offices outside of New York are commonly known as “regional” or “satellite” or “insignificant.” While they may claim to maintain the “Wall Street state of mind,” they never quite get it. I’ve been to every major city in the world, and I can safely say that New York is the National Banking Champion of the past forever years, and everywhere else is just JV.
While traveling to these boondocks, I can’t help but feel like a transplanted all-state quarterback among uncoordinated rejects. I’m casually running in touchdowns all by myself while both the other team and my own receivers are fumbling about, clueless.
London
Of the JV squad, London’s game is the most promising. It has decent fundamentals and seems to understand the basic concepts, but it’s just not quite there.
London is the B-list celeb version of Manhattan; it’s the Freddy Prinze Jr. to our Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s island-ish, which is good, and when visiting, I’ve noticed they even have their own B&T (bridge and tunnel) crowd, the “chavs,” who are just as annoying and omnipresent as our own. An Essex girl has the same slum-appeal as our Long Island and Jersey chicks, and they’re just as eager to meet Bankers.
Our friends “across the pond” are gaining steam based on the growing European market, but while it may have been the foundation for men’s tailoring, London will never be the epicenter of Banking. The names aren’t even right. The Square Mile and Canary Wharf are poor-man’s versions of our Financial District. “CanWhar?” “TheSquaMi?” Those don’t sound anywhere near as cool as “FiDi.” And neither does “Investment Wanker.”
Bankers starting out in London will always be sent to New York for training, not the other way around (you don’t count, Barclays!). There are no blockbuster British companies looking to IPO, and the only big PE shop over there recognizes its uniqueness in London; the firm Permira claims its name translates to “very special, very different.” The most famous British Bank, N. M. Rothschild & Sons, carried some clout in the 1800s, but that family is now more focused on winemaking.
In the long run, London will do quite well for itself, like a TV actor who has the occasional breakout supporting character role, but, despite its best efforts, it will just never be in the spotlight. Different? Yes. Special? No.
San Francisco
San Francisco is another half-decent junior varsity player, but she plays in a weird, Ultimate Frisbee–ish manner.
San Fran probably has the second largest population of Bankers in the United States, and they live in places like the Marina and Pacific Heights and wander around their city with the ever-present fear that their girlfriends might jump ship for some billionaire start-up geek.
Even speaking on the phone with SF Bankers is troubling. You’ll be trying to conduct business, and then they’ll say something like: “Yo bro, this model I made is hella sick” or “My bonus is gonna be hecka big, kid!” What kinds of adverbs are those?
Thankfully, you’re allowed to say, “Yo! You’re hella regional!” and hang up on them immediately.
Chicago
I had a friend who worked in the Chicago office of a large Investment Bank, and one time, after several rounds, he leaked the fact that he was forced to bind his own pitch books and had to physically call to order dinner because only the New York office had a production department and SeamlessWeb. How lame is that?
As a player on the JV squad, Chicago is the terrible kicker, doubling up his mini JV soccer letter with another one in football. He misses twenty-five-yard field goals, and if New York scores a touchdown, Chicago will screw up the extra point.
While Chicago may be known as the Second (Tier) City, it is really the Twelfth (Tier) Banking City, despite a couple large Hedge Funds out there. The only impressive thing about it is that it successfully manages to be the polar opposite of Manhattan. Unlike our elite country club, Chicago is a collection of meathead frat dudes and hicks going ga-ga, stuffing their faces with hot dogs at Wiener Circle.
Young Bankers in Chicago tend to live in Lincoln Park, moving on to the Gold Coast and eventually North Shore areas. Chicago’s mediocrity is a prime example of the degeneration that occurs when you can rent a decent-sized apartment for only $400 per month, so no one should ever, ever bitch about Manhattan’s high rent prices—the sifting is necessary.
In terms of nightlife, Chicago makes an almost charmingly pathetic effort at having “hip” lounges and clubs that cater to wealthy young professionals. The Chicagoans just can’t seem to pull it together, though, and asking for “bottle service” will probably leave you at a table with a bucket of seven-ounce pony beers, several faded sorority sisters, and a free round of Jell-O shots.
Los Angeles
LA Bankers are generally out in the middle of the football field, wide open and waving their hands above their heads eagerly in hopes of getting passed the ball. This is never indulged, but I will occasionally toss a pump-fake their direction, just so someone comes and tackles the shit out of them.
A lot of West Coast Bankers have a not-so-extraordinary dream of starting their own fund and being able to run it from a beachfront property in San Diego, surfing and exploring “nature.” Until they reach this misguided pinnacle, they’re generally stuck in the wasteland that is Los Angeles.
It seems that in LA, people tend to value working in Hollywood more than working in finance. I tip my hat to those in that industry for creating their own little personal fantasy land and cede to them all their plastic-surgery-ridden bleached blondes; Bankers have a stronghold on the rest of the world.
Note to Bankers in LA—get the fuck out.
Asia
The JV Banking team has a waterboy, an Asian kid everyone refers to as “Asia.” He provides replenishment, but it comes in the form of his women, and he’s never allowed to drink the Gatorade he dispenses.
Asian women in Asia are, remarkably, even more attracted to Bankers than Asian women in America. As such, being a good-looking white man in Asia is being part of a successful sex oligopoly. There are few of us and there is insane demand, and this is why Banking in Asia is awesome. Everyone from schoolgirls in Tokyo to Hong Kong socialites will physically throw themselves at those in finance, doing anything to win our praise and conversation.
Asian girls even trick Bankers into sleeping with them under the guise of practicing English or brushing up on finance concepts. “Rye-boar!” they’ll scream, and the London Interbank Offered Rate (LIBOR) will have never seemed more confusing.
Even Banker Chicks will feel wanted for once in Asia, as the natives will pet their blond hair in fascination and mimic their arrhythmic dance moves. No market with Bankers is perfect, but in Asia our product is much more overtly and aggressively sought after than anywhere else.
Beyond this, Asia is unimportant. There appear to be some signs of economic development and growth of the Private Equity business in China, perhaps added bonuses to the existing privileged status we hold.
There are, of course, other satellite cities—the Little League perhaps. As for the JV squad, I will admit I do occasionally enjoy traveling out to visit, dominate, and inspire their awe. But ultimately, there’s nothing like coming home and playing in New York, in front of millions of my fans.
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INSIDER INFO WITH HANNAH
I’m a San Fran girl, born and raised. And despite what people may assume, I’m not some hemp necklace–wearing, bong-smoking hippie chick from Berkeley. No, I’m an attractive young female from a good family in Atherton, and I played both lacrosse and tennis in high school.
Th
e other night, I had to make quite a decision, and the Silicon Valley dynamic came into play. I was out at a bar with my friends, and before I knew it, I was talking to two guys, both attractive, one who worked for Google and one who worked at Goldman Sachs.
I had to choose between the two, and even though I knew they were both rich, they couldn’t have been more different. The Goldman guy, Hank, had on a crisp suit, Gucci loafers, and a Hublot. Sergei, the Googler, on the other hand, was wearing track pants, Birkenstocks, and a Timex. Hank bought me drink after drink while Sergei proposed we take turns buying rounds. And as for conversation, Sergei kept asking me questions about me, putting me on the spot to describe my interests and my “passions.” Hank seemed quite content to just talk about himself.
They both had their pros and cons, but I knew for certain the competition was over after they both asked me out. Hank promised to drive me out to Napa in his S4 convertible for dinner at French Laundry, and, um…Sergei told me he’d “take me to lunch at the Googleplex.”
I don’t care how nice that cafeteria is, Sergei, at least Bankers know how to treat a girl right!
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COMMENTS FROM leveragedsellout.com
1. NYC during summer is one of the most disgusting places in the country. It’s hot and humid, with millions of people cramped on a small island. Add to this the smell of garbage, and NYC in summer is nothing more than a hellhole. Chicago has Lake Michigan, which is an awesome place to jog and play sports.
2. The nightlife in Chicago is amazing. There’s something going on every night. Stone Lotus, RiNo, the Underground, Manor, Enclave, Level, Y Bar, and Narcisse are just a few of the happening clubs and lounges. The girls there are some of the hottest you’ll see in the country, but, of course, they don’t go for fat NYC douche bags.
Damn, It Feels Good To Be a Banker Page 9