Tales of an Idiot Stockbroker

Early to rise and late to sleep, he went out into the world of finance like a man on a mission, armed with a silver tongue and a stubbornness born out of a hatred for failure. He dialed from a stack of Dun and Brad Streets, from morning till night, hoping to land a new client, in order to build his burgeoning business in the world of high finance. One week had passed without any progress and his frustration grew with juvenile energy and his managers were looking at with curious annoyance.  Plus, his car payments were due and the rent was expensive, as well as his new girlfriend(s).

On the 8th day without landing a new account, he sought out to get a ‘whale’. He cold called the most exclusive residential area of NYC (upper east side), despite everyone in NYC being filled with ‘dicks’ and ‘assholes’–a sordid combination that made cracking the wealthy city a task for any broker without personal introductions. In the event the wife picked up, he quickly hung up and moved onto the next ‘lead’ –mainly because they were obstinate ‘bitches’ and he was taught to avoid them at all costs.

It was 9:23pm when he landed his first account in 8 days, twenty three minutes past the legally accepted time. It was an arduous battle, as the ‘lead’ offered up a sundry of rebuttals, such as ‘let me talk to my wife’, ‘I am not liquid right now’, and ‘let me think about it for a day.’ All of these trivial objections were quickly overcome by the thoroughly trained broker and he reigned supreme that night–‘back-dooring’ this fellow into a new account statement.  The conversation had ended with the broker saying “I’ll pick you up 1,000 shares of XYZ at $33, not a penny more”, much to be bewilderment of an otherwise spent NYC asshole lead.

The broker went home that night with a real sense of accomplishment and pride, feeling as if he had just conquered Carthage, pillaged the town, raped the goats, and salted the lands.

Three days hence and 4 points lower, the broker took a reneg and ate a $4,000 hit.