One lesson I learned early on about this business is that there are no sure things. I don’t care what aspect of the industry you’re talking about – in our world nothing is guaranteed or assumed until it actually takes place. Nothing happens till it happens.
It was 1996 and I was four years new to the business. The dot-com rush was on and companies like Amazon, Yahoo, and Ebay were new to us. There was tons of money to go around, stocks were moving in $5 increments and everybody from coffee shop waitresses to taxi drivers were giving stock tips.
NASDAQ was the place to be and trading rooms were fat and happy, … Sales traders and traders were firm jumping for big money. Two, even three-year deals were being given out like candy. Some guys were even shopping entire teams… and firms were hiring them – and for big money. Mediocre guys who could talk the talk were being locked in for high six and seven-figure contracts. If you were a Wall Street recruiter, this was as good as it would ever be. It wasn’t uncommon to hear things like, “You remember Bobby O? I heard Weeden just gave him a two-year $800k deal. Unbelievable – that guy sucks.”
Remember trick or treating as a kid and running into one of your little buddies on the sidewalk and he says, “See that house over there… they’re giving out full-size Hershey Bars”…. It was the same game. Only it was more like, “I hear Oppenheimer is giving out two-year deals and they’re PAYING!”… So instead of putting on your Spiderman mask and knocking on the door looking for candy, you start calling around to see who you know that can get you in to meet with Oppenheimer.
Anyway… I was working for a little boutique shop covering accounts in their NADAQ department. Up until 7 months prior to that I had worked for a large wholesaler where most people were under 30 and super aggressive. In this firm, most folks had grey hair and the youngest still had ten years on me.
I was sitting there minding my own business when the phone rang. It was a man named Johnny Jumbo. I didn’t know Johnny that well, but what I did know was that he was very successful. In all fairness his success may have magnified due the fact that he used to work in the same firm I currently did and every day I would hear stories about him and his buyouts.
Johnny was a big guy (understatement) who had a reputation for doing monster business and a knack for being in the right place at the right time. By 1995 he had already been taken over and cashed out three times. This guy was the Mack Daddy. So why was he calling me?
“I’m hearing good things about you kid”, was his opening line and then proceeded to tell me how he could use a guy like me on his desk. Back then Morton’s Steak House was the place to be so we met there the following week to continue the courtship and discuss matters further. I couldn’t have been more excited about what was taking place. This was my meal ticket. But as excited as I was to hitch my wagon to this Wall Street legend, it had to make financial sense so I was open and honest and said, “Listen, I don’t have the experience you do with switching firms. If you were me, in terms of pay, what would you be looking for?” Without hesitation he responded, “You?… At least a double.” Well, that sure made my decision easier – Sign me up.
Over the next 3 weeks he introduced me to other managers in his shop, we talked just about every day over the phone and then, with my permission, one by one he starting calling my accounts. For a relatively new guy I was lucky enough to cover some large accounts and made it a point to keep them up every step of the way. By the fourth week all calls were made and it was time to get this trade on the tape. Mentally I had already checked out of the old shop and we agreed to meet that Thursday at the Morton’s bar to sign the contract. I was moving on to a bigger firm, about to double my income and my clients had my back – I was a made man. Life was good and I was on my way.
As 4:01 I slipped my Rolodex into my gym bag and headed over to Morton’s. I saddled up to the bar with a good friend (an hour early for my 5:30 meeting) drinking water the whole time so I was fresh for the meeting. At 5:20 my buddy congratulated me one more time and left so I could be alone with Johnny for the big ‘signing’.
5:30… 5:45… No Johnny. Since people didn’t carry cell phones back then all I could do was keep checking my watch. I started to second guess everything… “It was today, right?” I thought”, “We did say Morton’s – didn’t we?” By six o’clock it was time for my first vodka soda and by 7:00 I had ordered my fourth and a shot of tequila. How long was I supposed to wait? Where do I draw the line between loser and really wanting the job? Before you knew it, it was 8:30 and even I couldn’t understand myself speak so I called a car and went home.
The next morning I woke up in Loserville, dragged my hit-by-a-bus self out of bed and went to work. There I sat at the same crappy desk with the same assholes I thought I had left far behind and pulled out that god dammed Rolodex and placed it back onto my desk. I was pissed off, confused and disappointed all at the same time. As the day progressed, I explained my loser story to clients and friends who inquired about my big night. It was really fucked up – I mean it was a done deal. There was never a doubt. I wished I hadn’t told so many people because the entire world called me that morning… Everyone that is except Johnny Jumbo… and I sure wasn’t about to call him. Every hour that passed that day I grew angrier. What a dick. And every time I was able to get the situation out of my mind somebody would call and say, “So, what was his excuse? Did he call you yet?” and I’d get pissed off all over again. So much for the brass ring.
Days turned into weeks…. No call. Weeks turned into months… No Call. Then three months later, while entertaining a client I accidentally ran into him at Bobby Vans. There he was holding court at the corner of the bar. I tried to be cool and focus on my client but I couldn’t. My customer’s lips were moving but I wasn’t hearing a word. I couldn’t take it any more – I had to ask.
I excused my self and made my way through the crowd of regulars to where Johnny was standing with his back to me and gave him the tap. He turned to me and smiled, shook my hand and introduced me to the small group he was with. I pulled him over to the side, “I need to ask you something. I waited for you four hours that night. FOUR HOURS! No phone call. Nothing… What happened?” You know what this guy had the balls to say to me? Without missing a beat, he looked me dead in the eye and said, “That’s not important. What matters is that I still need you.” He was serious too! Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck you dude. At that point I replied, “Thanks but no thanks. I’m very happy where I am”, and walked back over to my client. People are fucking crazy.
Fast-forward fifteen years to 2010 at the Wounded Warriors event aboard the Intrepid. Despite how small the street is, I hadn’t seen Johnny Jumbo since that “I still need you” night in Bobby Vans… But that was about to change. I was working on my third Kettle and soda with a group of buddies playing the ‘is that a pro or a civilian game’ when I spotted Johnny walking through the crowd. Like a moth to a flame I approached him and initiated small talk which soon led to “So when was the last time we saw each other?” I was quick to remind him and basically went on to remind him of the situation you just read about in detail. He just stood there quietly sipping his drink but hanging on every word – almost as if he had never heard the story before. After digesting my words, he scratched his undaunted chin, thought for a moment and said, “Hmmm… you mean to tell me you’ve been carrying that around with you for fifteen years? I mean really, can we turn the page now?”
I laughed right out loud and realized I really like the guy. It’s fifteen years later, clearly I’m still pissed off and the thought of an apology has never even crossed his mind. In a world where people are constantly compromising who they are, you have to respect that.
Nothing happens till it happens,
-Dopey
