The Best Thing that Ever Happened to Me, part 1

My Grandfather died and I was distraught with grief. I took 5 days off from work, mourning the loss of Grandpa Fly, a young stockbroker at a bullshit firm. I had been there for about 6 months and my production numbers sucked moose cock, approximately 3-5k per month.

So, after taking a week off from work, I returned to the office and began packing my shit. I knew that taking a week off, no matter what the excuse, would get me fired. Lo and behold, like clockwork, shortly after I was finished packing my stuff, the sales manager called me into his office.

He was a burly Irish man, short on talent, long on work ethic. He was the type of person who always seemed jovial; yet at the same time, everyone knew he’d stick a knife in your back if given the chance. Also, he was known for hiring young reps, only to fire them shortly thereafter, in order to take their books. A regular fuckface, if I might be so bold.

Anyway, I sat down in his office and he said: “Fly, just throw in the towel.” I just sort of looked at him, all cow eyed and shit. He furthered: “This business is not for you. You can make more money as a dishwasher or paper boy. Just hang it up.”

Still depressed over the loss of my Grandfather, coupled with the fact that I was poor as fuck, meekly, I agreed and handed over my book (prior to entering his office, he asked me to bring in my book), without an argument.

Planning ahead, I had secured a place of employment at a small NYSE member firm, where a good friend of mine worked. He allowed me to share an office with him. However, upon transferring over, the market was so bad, due to the LTCM bullshit, hardly any of my clients followed me to the new firm. As a matter of fact, only 3 clients had the balls to come with me.

A few months passed and the market was in idiotic full crisis mode. I was young and overzealous and could not fathom what the fuck was going on. It was surreal. My work hours were consistent, 8am to 11pm. I worked like a fucking slave, often times slacking on the sales front in order to sponge information from the bloomberg terminal. I was an information junky, always reading, studying my trade.

Shortly before the LTCM crisis ended, the owners of the firm asked me to ” go work in the boardroom,” since I was undeserving of an office. They were right and I hated them for it.

By that time, despite being in the business for little more than 1 year, I was burnt out. I spent a week or two looking for a salaried job. My interviews were egregious, mainly because I really hated myself for failing and it showed. I wore it on my sleeve. The fact that I was being forced to find alternative employment, due to early set backs, ate me up inside. Needless to say, because of my poor interviewing skills, I was unable to land discount house gigs, or anything else for that matter. I had a new baby at home and I was living off of credit cards, in stupid basement apartment, Brooklyn, NY. My back was up against the wall.

I went back to work.

Almost immediately after “throwing in the towel” (again), in search for “steady employment,” my life changed for the better.

To be continued…

Part 2

Part 3

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