Old Traders Never Die

Chapter 9

Michael thought it was about time we all had a night out.

'It'll be a good bit of bonding', he insisted.

'But we've already bonded', Andy pointed out.

'OK, then it will be a good opportunity for you guys to bond with me, then!'. We all laughed. We'd come to like Michael over the course of the last few weeks. Despite replacing Nigel, and him being the son of the CEO, Michael had a good way about him. He had started to earn our respect, and we'd begun to get used to the idea of him being our boss. But we remained unnerved by the takeover, and uncertain about our own futures.

Anyway, that's how we all ended up on a Riverboat moored on the River Thames. The boat never actually left its moorings, but it was better than going to a traditional pub, and was a favourite haunt of City traders.

'The drinks are on US Bank', Michael shouted, as we piled across the wooden plank that led us onto the boat. Smart move, I thought, as I saw how the other traders were reacting. Michael was pushing all the right buttons. I knew that, if I stayed, I'd probably learn a lot from him.

It was good to let off steam occasionally, and the last few weeks had been tough. The markets had been a lot less volatile, and it was beginning to be more difficult for smart traders to make money. And then there was the stress of the takeover. Although the people who worked for US Bank seemed mostly a good sort, they thought in a totally different way from the rest of us. US Bank was a large global player, with a footprint in retail, consumer and investment banking, and asset and wealth management. We were basically a small trading outfit. Where we were entrepreneurial, they were bureaucratic. While they convened committees of people to mull over key decisions, we just got on and did it. And then there was the fact that most of our senior management were either being replaced, or had resigned 'to pursue other opportunities'. It didn't seem a marriage made in Heaven.

In truth, headhunters had been all over us since the takeover was announced, and many of the team, including me, had had preliminary discussions about a switch to a rival firm. There was even talk of a big team move. I looked over at Michael, who was clearly enjoying himself, and wondered how he would take it if we all handed in our notices. That wouldn't be pleasant. Anyway, that might all be in the future. For now, I just wanted to party.

Predictably, as the drinks flowed, we became louder and rowdier. And I'd noticed before that Tim, in particular, found it difficult to contain himself when plied with alcohol.

'They want us to leave', Andy said as he came over to my table.

'Fuck 'em', Tim replied. 'Our money's as good as anyone else's. We ain't going anywhere'.

And with that, he picked up a full jug of beer, jumped on the table and drenched the guests on an adjoining table. 'The drinks are on me!', he shouted.

'That's it', I said, noticing the skipper and two heavies were on their way over to us, 'I think we just outstayed our welcome'.

'OK guys', the skipper said calmly, 'That's enough. You'd better leave now, before things get out of hand'.

'Shut the fuck up Captain Birdseye!', Tim shouted, still dancing atop the table.

'Get down, son', the skipper asked, 'Before you make me do something I might regret'.

I looked up at Tim, not certain how he would respond. But, drunk as he was, the size of the two heavies had a sobering affect. He slowly climbed down from the table and made for the exit. The rest of the team tamely followed.

But they weren't done yet, and Tim, Andy and Ian, a junior trader who had only recently joined us, strode across the walkway that connected the riverboat to the Embankment, turned around with their rear-ends facing the boat, and flipped a moonie at the crowd inside the boat.

As the trio stood on the roadside laughing, with their exposed parts there for any who cared to see, Michael came over, accompanied by a young(ish) woman.

'Not quite the introduction I thought I'd be making', he laughed, 'Guys, I'd like you to meet Trudie. I'm hoping she'll soon be joining us'.

'Sorry you got an eyeful', Tim smirked.

'An eyeful', Trudie repeated, 'Hardly. Six more inches and it might have looked liked a proper dick!'.

The rest of us laughed, and I wondered just who this ballsy woman was, and where she came from. Instantly, I sensed competition.

'Trudie's coming into the office next week for a quick look around', Michael said, 'But as she was in the neighbourhood, I suggested she join us tonight'.

'We're off to a strip-joint now', Tim piped up, 'You up for that ?'.

'Thanks for the kind offer, but I think I'll pass', she replied, 'I'd rather watch paint dry. But you boys run along'.

She's a fucking lesbian', Tim said as soon as Trudie was out of earshot.

'Isn't every female who puts you in your place, Tim ?', I replied.

'She's quite hot, though', Andy remarked.

'Fuck off', said Tim, 'She's probably got a bigger dick than you!'.

'Well, she wasn't that impressed with the size of yours, that's for sure', Andy snickered, as we headed off for some 'light' entertainment.

Chapter 10

It was a few months later, after the customary 'gardening leave', that Trudie finally joined us. She arrived early on her first morning, only to discover that the trading floor was already bustling with activity. But no-one was working - the traders all got in early to witness the fun and games planned for Trudie's first day.

Trudie was a woman clearly on a mission. She had a point to make from the off - or least thought she did. It wasn't going to be an easy ride for her, and she knew it. First off, she was Michael's first proper hire since he took over from Nigel. And although Michael had now earned the respect of the traders, there was still some grumbling that he was bringing in some new blood at a time when other staff were losing their jobs following the takeover. And then there was the 'woman' thing. Trudie would be the only female trader on the floor, and, as such, would be under tremendous pressure to perform from the get-go. She couldn't merely be as good as the rest of us - she had to be better. Otherwise, she would just be dismissed as a silly female failing to make her way in a man's world. In truth, however, this was something Trudie had been dealing with all her professional life. The perceived wisdom was that there were simply some things a woman wasn't meant to do - play football, drink lager and be anywhere near a trading floor (unless she was bringing the traders their lunch, of course).

Anyway, Michael was showing Trudie to her desk (the one next to Peter that once belonged to Tim), when he saw it. A half-smile crept across his face. He knew that there was something going on (the trading floor was never this crowded so early). This was Trudie's first test, and it would be interesting to see how she came out of it. Trudie had been around traders and trading floors too long, however, to rise to the bait.

'This yours, old man ?', she said to Peter as she held up the 12 inch dildo, complete with pink ribbon on the base, that had been left on her desk as a kind of arrival present.

'Might have been once', Peter replied. 'But it's been a few years since I saw anything like that'.

'Tim ?', Trudie asked quietly.

Peter nodded.

Trudie walked slowly over to the other side of the trading floor, where a group of traders were standing, smirking, around Tim's desk.

'Go easy on them', Peter called out after her.

'Someone left this on my desk', she said. Immediately, the smirking stopped. All eyes were on Trudie now, anxious to see how she would respond.

'It's far too big to belong to you little chaps', she continued. 'But if you do find out who it belongs to, be sure to give him my number. In the meantime', she said looking straight at Tim, 'I understand that you'll probably have more use for this than me'. And she tossed the dildo in Tim's direction. Instinctively, he caught it. The was silence for just a second, then the trading floor erupted in laughter, as Tim's face flushed. He had been outsmarted by the female.

'Good job', Peter remarked as Trudie returned to her now clear desk, 'I'm impressed'.

'That's nothing', she replied, 'Be impressed with my P&L'.

'I intend to be', he responded.

'Well', Michael said to Trudie, 'I was going to introduce you all round, but I don't think you'll need any introductions now', he laughed.

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'The market is just too toppy', Michael said, as he addressed our weekly meeting. 'We're heading south. Stock prices have got way ahead of earnings. We're due a massive correction. I think we need to short the market'.

That was a big call. The bears had been calling for a correction for months, but the market ploughed on through the conflicting economic reports and data, and kept on steaming ahead; we'd now seen a 40% rise since the bottom.

'What do you think, Peter ?', Michael asked.

'It's probably sensible to take some off the table, but shorting the whole market is very risky', he replied. 'This market is defying all sensible analysis. But we should probably get research to do some more in-depth sector analysis, and look at specific companies to short. We don't want to be caught with our pants down, though, if stocks just continue to rise'.

'And what about FX ?', Michael asked the gathering.

'Sell the dollar', came the reply from one of the other traders, 'The dollar's fucked'.

'Be careful betting against the dollar', Larry, our chief economist, warned. 'All this talk of dollar weakness on budget deficits is overblown'.

'Oil ?'.

'Going to $100-a-barrel. Get on the train and enjoy the ride!'.

These weekly sessions were useful, but nothing more than a forum for traders to throw out ideas. The serious analysis was done elsewhere, and traders were expected to attend formal presentations on the economy and the markets every few days. But it was important for us traders to stop looking at our screens for a while and get the old grey matter working. It's too easy to get lost in all those numbers racing across your screen, and lose perspective.

Tim, however, certainly had a new perspective. The woman in Human Resources he had been briefly shagging earlier in the year had just told him that she was pregnant. And her husband, who had apparently had the 'snip' a few years back, was not best pleased.

Source: Here Is The City (hitc.com)