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My Sales Trader BFF

Dear Dopey and readers,

Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying because I am just as tired of all the downsizing and layoffs as the next guy.  But truth be told, there is still plenty of fat to trim. The reason I know we still need to have more layoffs is by the ongoing stream of incompetents who continue to “cover” me.

One of the problems with all the recent cuts is that we on the buy side are constantly getting pushed off to new sales traders when the last guy gets canned.  I can’t say any of them were rocket scientists but at least you learn how to deal with their inadequacies, understand their trading styles (or lack of) and just what to expect in general.

I have this guy from a big shop, who only started covering us recently – maybe 3 months ago, and I have only met him once for a quick drink after the close before catching my train.  I would say time spent together over that drink was 35 minutes max – and that’s probably stretching it.

If you heard the way this guy carried on the next day, you would think we were best friends, fraternity brothers, in each other’s wedding and hadn’t seen each other for ten years.  Back off guy… One drink does not make you my blood brother – it means you’re somebody I barely know.

As if this guy isn’t annoying enough – he does this test thing with his IM.  If he should send me more then three IMs in a row and I don’t respond, he sends, “TEST TEST TEST”… Initially I thought this was a feeble attempt at humor but it’s three months later and since I rarely reply to his insignificant IMs, I get TEST TEST TEST at least 5x a day followed up by a phone call – “Hey just making sure you’re seeing my IMs”.  Is he fucking kidding me?  It’s like mentally he can’t accept the fact that I am ignoring him and that it must be a technical issue.

Over the passed two days this halfwit has been probing me for color on my kids, my golf game and my shoe size while he tries to bring me up to speed on his family tree. You know what this metrosexual said to me?  He said that I should take a class with him… A SPIN CLASS!… because I would get to meet his “hot personal trainer”.  What the fuck??!!

Listen my Cable Guy sales trading friend – go haunt somebody else’s house.  Exercise, for me is only a distant memory (despite my my ongoing auto-renewing membership).  I live in the suburbs with my wife and kids. And like most men in this industry who commute to and from the city every day I already don’t get to see them as much I should.  My free time belongs to me and I will spend that time with people I enjoy – not some parasite who spends his days trying to crawl up in my ass.

How about you stop worrying about how old my kids are and start adding value.

Do men even take spin classes?  TEST! TEST! TEST!

Thanks for listening.

-Another Crusty Custy

7 Responses

  1. monkey Says:

    maybe you get new coverage bc you are a tiny little account and firms don’t waste the more sr guys on you.

    a spin class just meant you need to lose weight-

  2. Al Veoli Says:

    Yes, I agree this douche is just a little too annoyed, but I agree personal time is valuable. I am now @ home and the wife is whining about meeting her friend (and her husband) for dinner tomorrow night. That is the last thing I want to do. Sh***t!!!! I prefer staying home downloading some new apps on my Ipad to pretending to be interested in that broad and her husband douche’s growing business. I might fantacize about boning my wife’s friend, but it wouldn’t be worth it with all of the nagging I would have to put up with for that privilege of doing so. Why the @#@ can’t my wife just leave me alone on the weekends watching the kids? I need a break on the weekends!

  3. Al Veoli Says:

    Dopey, what ever happened to the other dicks that posted here, like Six Gun, Gambler and the other dooshes? Am I the only dick that survived, or is allowed to access the Internet? Say hellow to those other dooshes for me.

  4. Al Veoli Says:

    Here’s another funny for the fellas (and the broads that appreciate them):

    One day, back in the olden days, a cowboy was crossing the desert to do some trading and came upon an Indian. The Indian was laying on his back and had an erection that stuck straight up in the air.
    The cowboy asked the Indian what he was doing.
    The Indian replied, ‘Me tell-um time.’ This made sense to the cowboy, he was using his penis as a sundial.
    A few days later, after completing his trading, the cowboy came across the same Indian. This time the Indian was laying on his back vigorously masturbating.
    The cowboy asked what he was doing this time.
    The Indian said, ‘Me wind-um watch.’

  5. elvis Says:

    you’re like a cockroach al, you could probably survive a nuclear blast.

  6. Al Veoli Says:

    Elvis, you are right. I am a survivor. My firm layed off 30% of the fellas on the desk over the last 3 years, but I stayed on because I have alot of connections and I suppose have a joke for the boss when he needs it.

    Here’s another one I heard on the desk today that reminds me of you, Elvis (in case you’ve left the building)–ha ha….

    A woman sought the advice of a sex therapist, confiding that she found it increasingly difficult to find a man who could satisfy her, and that it was very wearisome getting in and out of all these short term relationships.
    ‘Isn’t there some way to judge the size of a man’s equipment from the outside?’ she asked earnestly.
    ‘The only foolproof way, is by the size of his feet,’ counselled the therapist.
    So the woman went downtown and proceeded to cruise the streets, until she came across a young fellow, Elvis, standing in an unemployment line with the biggest feet she had ever laid her eyes on.
    She took him out to dinner, wined and dined him, and then took him back to her apartment for an evening of abandon.
    When the man woke up the next morning, the woman had already gone but, by the bedside table was a $20 bill and a note that read, ‘With my compliments, Elvis, take this money and go out and buy a pair of shoes that fit you.’

  7. Slacker Says:

    Al please go away

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