Investment Banking Monkey - The All Nighter

Ok. So the news is out. Bonuses have been paid and the annual game of musical chairs is about to begin. You look around the floor, trying to guess who will quit in the coming days. You observe the analysts’ faces for signs of an upcoming resignation.

A few cubicles away, Pete Flannigan is a substantial deal more joyous than his usual chain smoking, grumpy, sleep deprived self. He’s sitting on the edge of his desk, merrily joking around with Friedrich von Blondehaare, who is actually engaging in non-work and promotion related conversation – also very out of character and suspect. What are these two monkeys upto? Whatever it is, it can’t be any good. It also surely is not the fact that they have been paid a lot of money just now, as once the cash is paid, everyone gets busy thinking about the fact that it will be a whole year of work before next bonus comes along – not a merry thought. No, indeed Pete and Freddy are up to something.

Thinking back, you recollect that both boys had pulled a few sickies over the last two months – Freddie had the flu and then a bad cough, followed by a leak in his shower which a plumber had to fix three times, each time, of course, requiring him to skip work for the day. Pete interestingly came up with the measles and also had plumbing problems. Pete also started coming to work in a suit, and even on days when he didn’t have a client meeting.

Ok, you think to yourself, so what. They went for a few interviews. Can you blame them? You interviewed with Blunderstone, didn’t you? So why should they not be allowed to test the market.

You smile at your open mindedness as you take another look at them chuckling away and firing funny glances around the office.

Damn it, enough of this “love thy fellow banker” shit. You take a dose of reality and remind yourself that these monkeys are probably sitting on offers from top tier rival banks or even a hedge fund or PE shop and here you are, sitting on your loyalty to the firm with diddly squat but your bonus.

You take another dose of reality and reassure yourself that you wouldn’t have even wanted to hold an offer from what are likely the third rate institutions they are going to. You work for the city’s premier investment banking firm. You are the best of the best, and the competition only tries to poach the best (you) and ends up with rest (them). Haha. They couldn’t even get to you, that’s how much of the best of the best you are. Haha you monkeys, chuckling there in your little corners, thinking that the three months of gardening leave and full bonus in your pocket plus the sign on bonus from the firm you jump to plus the possible one year early promotion you are likely to have gotten. Haha, you think you’re special. Well ha, you haven’t got loyalty have you, and as the firm says, you can’t put a price on loyalty.

You stop for another moment and realize that you are consoling yourself for your lack of an offer with the firm’s propaganda. How very, very sad. This means, there is only one thing to do. Shine those hand made shoes (or preferably get someone to do that for you), get a new suit done, new shirts, new tie and start interviewing.