Investment Banking Monkey - The All Nighter

You sit comfortably at your desk. Excel is looking you straight in the face. You feel like a concert pianist, performing a masterpiece in front of a concert hall full of appreciating fans, as you format the pie charts on the powerpoint on your screen to absolute perfection. It’s the list of profiles for Frank – who asked for a detailed profile of every single precedent transaction of relevance since 2002. Now a good senior would have picked up on the ‘of relevance’ bit and limited the exercise to three or four profiles. Not Rupert, overjoyed that his mistake landed him an M&A mandate, he asked you to profile every single deal and do a 90 page profiles book for Frank.

You truly don’t know who to curse first – Rupert or Frank, so you decide that both of them are to blame, being the useless muppets that they are. But you are in a good mood today, and there’s no room for bitterness. You are one of five lucky analysts working on the task and you have a week to do it so plenty of time to smile and enjoy the sunshine outside.

You are smiling like a baby at your good fortune, when your mobile phone rings to give you a fright. It’s a withheld number, which is not a good sign – it means business. You pick up the phone, look at it for a second, and answer.

“Hello”

“Hi, is that Mike?” says the female voice on the other end of the line. You are a little puzzled by the fact that you do not know this person, yet they know you. What is more puzzling is the fact that someone who is definitely not from the office is calling you as you are by now well past the stage where friends give you a call, as they’ve forgotten you as a lost cause. Finally, it’s a female voice, and let’s face it, you definitely haven’t got a significant other working the hours you’ve been working lately.

“Yeah, that’s me, who’s this?”

“You don’t know me.” She says. No shit. Would I be asking if I did? “My name is Rebecca Nicholson. I’m a recruitment consultant at Assbury Moron.”

“A what?” you ask, thinking what the fuck is a recruitment consultant. This HR chick has obviously misdialed and has no fucking idea that this is not Assbury Moron, or wherever else she’s looking for.

“A recruitment consultant. A headhunter. Are you free to speak for a few moments”

Shit. A headhunter! Wow. Ok. Sure you have time to speak!

“Um, er… yes” you mumble in a whispery voice as you stand up and walk away to find a little privacy. Like it isn’t suspicious enough that an unknown caller rings and after they introduce themselves you get all secretive and hide, but you obviously don’t realize this as it’s your FIRST HEADHUNTER CALL!!!!!

“Um, er… yes… I can speak now”

“Great” says Rebecca “Mike, I’m calling because you’ve been recommended to me and I would like to see if you’ll be interested in coming in to see a private equity firm for an interview.”

Wow! A private equity firm. That’s the kind of shop filled by assholes like frank fucking Johnson. Why the fuck would you want to do that? You remember a bit of advice Rob gave you on one of your first days: don’t dismiss any opportunity. So you decide to humor Rebecca.

“Sure. Who are they?”

“They’re a firm called Blunderstone. Have you heard of them?”

Wow. Blunderstone are competing with Kruelberg on the deal the firm is advising them on. Anything to pull a fast one on Frank, so you accept the interview and pencil it in your diary. Tuesday. 8am. Blunderstone offices.

You have waited long and hard, but you really will get Frank now!