Out on the Street: Smart or Lucky?

On Wednesday I had my second interview with a major US bank. And when I say interview with the bank, I mean I met everyone in the company. I was there for seven hours. I met the head of sales, the head of trading, the head of debt capital markets, the copy guy. You name them, I met them. Fingers crossed, but I think it went well—other than my meeting with Yuri, the 28-year old wunderkind trader.

Yuri made $30 million for the firm last year, his second year of trading, a fact he succeeded in mentioning within the first five minutes of our interview and at least twice more. If you extrapolate the astronomical growth rate of his investment return, he’s sure to make 300 billion gazillion dollars by the time he reaches my age. Just ask him— he’ll tell you.

Other than his periodic reminders of his success, the interview progressed with the familiar series of questions. He started with the soft “tell me about yourself” and moved on to my current views on markets. I had rehearsed my talking points and was sailing through until Yuri went off on a tangent…

Out on the Street: The Hardest Yard

Joe the Trader chronicles his experiences with life after Wall Street.

Sports is full of clichés about scoring or winning, and fans and analysts are obsessed with the notion of being clutch. In baseball the relief pitcher who comes in the ninth inning to seal the victory is the closer. In football quarterbacks are measured by their ability to negotiate the last twenty yards and how well they can guide their team in the last two minutes of a game. In soccer the forward who can score the goals is called a finisher.

I have never been any of those.

In soccer I played midfield and when I played rugby I was the fullback, the last line of defense.

Out on the Street: Even Your Friends are Enemies

“Joe the Trader” chronicles his experiences with life after Wall Street.
After 11 years in emerging market finance, I figure I pretty much know everyone in the business. Or I know how to get in touch with them. Being so plugged in is, generally speaking, a good thing. But every now and then things can get a bit too cozy.

A few days ago, the He-Men Unemployment Club congregated at Taza, my neighborhood café in Brooklyn. Roberto, Hal and I were still actively looking for work.

“IBC bank just contacted me to build a research team,” Roberto said. “They said that they wanted a star and frankly there aren’t that many of us with a big name. So I’m pretty optimistic.”

“IBC???” I spat out a mushy mix of crumbs and coffee. “They called me yesterday for the same job.”

Out on the Street: The Bucks Are Back

So extravagant pay packages are a thing of the past? The political rhetoric suggests so. Last week the Obama administration started to work on curbing “excesses” on Wall Street. The compensation structure for all financial services firms—even those who didn’t accept TARP money—is under review. The private sector is also rethinking pay big time. Earlier this year, JP Morgan C.E.O. Jamie Dimon told employees at a town hall meeting that many should be prepared to have zero bonus payments in 2009. “Get over it,” was his message.

So you can imagine my surprise when I heard the other day that a trader had been offered several million dollars to jump to another bank guaranteed for a couple of years. That’s right: several million dollars. At first I thought I’d heard wrong. It’s 2009, not 2006…

Out On the Street: The Equal Opportunity Recession

It had been a while since the He-Man had gotten together to sip lattes and catch up. As usual, the shop talk gave way to gossip and anecdotes. TJ was recounting a disagreement he had with his wife, Jenny.

“So I was on the computer late one evening. The kids were asleep and my wife was reading in bed. Or so I thought. Suddenly she walks in and says ‘What are you doing?’ I turn around and say ‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m filling out my unemployment insurance application.’” Jenny was shocked.

“Christ, I don’t think she would have been half as mad if I was downloading porn,” TJ said…

Out on the Street: Good and Evil on Wall Street

“So do you wear a white hat or a black hat?” my lady asked me on our very first date at a hipster Williamsburg restaurant. I summoned my inner Nigel Tufnel and responded: “None more black.”

I remember thinking, What kind of question is that? Do you really think I am a bad guy because I work on Wall Street? If I hadn’t found her so otherwise interesting and attractive, I would have taken serious offense. I told her that I hoped my job didn’t define me. I’m also a dad with three kids. (F.Y.I. to all the divorcées out there: talking about the kids is not great first date rap.) I struggle with playing guitar. I am a good skier. And when I get my cook on I can make a mean Mexican meal (and a margarita not for the faint of heart.) In my job, I in fact considered my hat to be white. I was part of system, I reasoned, that helped finance developing countries and raise living standards. My job as a trader was to reward governments for following the best economic policies for their people and to punish those that didn’t.

That was in November 2006, when I was riding high in the midst of the most successful year I’d ever had professionally. Today there is a black cloud over Wall Street. I wonder how our first date would have gone if we had met in March 2009…

Out on the Street: When Plan B Becomes Plan A

Last week I had eight face-to-face meetings. Four were networking, two were formal interviews and two were discussions about joining partnerships. Not one of the meetings, while still involved in the financial world, were jobs that I would have considered “Plan A” when I first lost my job in December.

When I started looking for work, I concentrated on finding the same job I had just lost—trading in emerging markets. It seemed totally logical to me. I liked my job and I had been doing it for some time.

Last week was the first in which I really accepted that getting my old job just might not be in the cards…

Out on the Street: How to Feel Like a Bitch

“Hey—I got to hop, I got some friend of a friend I have to talk to. I’ll lose him in 10 to 15 minutes.”

Ummm, I am waiting right outside your office. I can hear you.

So that’s how I met Kevin, a friend of a family friend who runs a $2.5 billion hedge fund. When I actually met him I was greeted with a terse, “How can I help you?” No pleasantries with Kevin—after all, our informational conversation was going to last 15 minutes tops and he was doing me a favor. But I was determined to stretch it to 20. Ha. That’d show him.

I have been to too many meetings in my professional career to count, and along the way I learned that every single face-to-face is an opportunity to establish your standing in the power structure…

Out on the Street: Hope Springs Eternal

“Joe the Trader” chronicles his experiences with life after Wall Street.

On March 15th, in a remarkable show of transparency for a Federal Reserve governor, Ben Bernanke was interviewed on 60 Minutes. He sounded much like Chance the Gardener from Jerzy Kosinski’s Being There. In the classic novel and later movie, a simple gardener is released into Washington D.C. after the death of the man he has spent his life working for. Taken in by an advisor to the president who mistakes his name for the patrician sounding Chauncey Gardiner, Chance charms everyone with his botanical observations, which are misinterpreted as sage economic, financial and political allegories. In the spirit of the season, Chairman Bernanke said he saw signs of economic green shoots emerging. I sure hope that his comments were more valuable than a rambling gardener’s.

Than again, I’m not big on hoping. As a professional investor, I knew that if I was ever hoping, I was in trouble. It was my job to assess risk. It was my job to examine the merits of an investment, to know it’s pros and cons, and most importantly, to know when the facts had changed and I needed to get out of my position…

Out on the Street: Comp Me

Each week, “Joe the Trader” chronicles his experiences with life after Wall Street.

Last week I had my third interview with my most promising job prospect. While I may have to go through another round of pleasantries, at least as far as I’m concerned, it is time to fish or to cut bait. Fortunately, the chief investment officer of the firm was the one to bring up the touchy topic of pay.

“Lets talk comp,” he said. “What are your thoughts?”

What are my thoughts? Are you kidding me? Just give me a job and a reasonable salary. But of course, I couldn’t sound desperate. A few years back, when times were good and I was being lured away by a prospective employer, my dad advised me to “ask for enough to make them squirm.” While that might have been the appropriate strategy at that time, now I am not exactly playing with the strongest hand—nor with the house’s money. So I decided to try to balance the two.