Over the years, I’ve seen guys do all kinds of shit to get business. We’ve all done the over-the-top seafood tower and steak dinner too many times to count. I’ve seen customers placed front row before bands like the Eagles, Rolling Stones and Black Eyed Peas, behind first base during the World Series and on the 50-yard line for the Superbowl. I can remember one sales trader back in the day who spent an entire summer of weekends helping his “buddy” build an extension on his kitchen. I guess the bottom line is – you do what you gotta do – but what I saw at the Chicago Trader’s Winter Conference takes the cake.
After landing in Chicago way too early on the Thursday of the convention, I checked into my room and took a little nap. Four hours later and after missing out on what I’m sure was a really wonderful panel discussion on option innovation and the search for liquidity, I took a shower and headed down to the lobby just in time for the Vendor fair and lunch. The vendor fair used to be all about collecting cool baseball hats… Now the only things you’ll find are cheap pens and beer can koozies with fly-by-night OMS logos on them. Beer can Koozies? I would imagine those are the type of things you would find at a monster truck rally – not a Wall Street function. Bring back the bull market beach towels and baseball caps.
I must say, if you’re one of those over achievers who really live and breathe the business, are interested in market structure and what some industry leaders have to say – then this conference is for you. I think out of all the STA conventions I’ve attended in my career, this one is by far the best organized. On the other hand, If you’re like me and just looking to get away from the office for a few days and hob-knob with some clients – well then hey, you win some you lose some.
I tried… I really did. I suffered through a panel discussion on high frequency trading and its criminal impact on market structure and volatility. These eight panelists might as well have been wearing ski masks. There were 45 minutes allotted for the discussion. Without exaggeration, each of the eight panelists took five minutes to themselves to present infomercials on their respective firms and introduce themselves. The “mediator” managed to salvage a collective five minutes allowing two speakers to defend high frequency trading. Apparently, since it’s just a high speed technology gaming the algorithms and running ahead of institutional order flow and not them, it’s actually OK and healthy for the market place. Then everybody thanked them for the enlightening and we broke for lunch. Very productive – thank you. Needless to say, I decided to stick to what I do best and that’s sleeping all day and networking at night with my friend Jack Daniels. I got more rest in that two days then I had the previous two weeks.
Anyway, fresh from my nap, like a sell-side sheep I pinned my snazzy name tag onto my lapel and joined the group for cocktails. I had a few clients I knew would be around and a couple people I was hoping to run into. One the people I was looking forward to seeing was a buy side trader from an account I back up. This person, whose identity I must protect, is super cynical, has a great sense of humor and just the kind of person I prefer to be around. Anyway, since I don’t actually cover the account, and our interactions aren’t that frequent, I was looking forward to catching up.
However, I was forewarned that her husband and kids were staying at the hotel with her and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to meet for drinks because her husband, who is also in the business, already had plans that night and she would need to stay with her children.
After a few cocktails and about an hour of playing the ritualistic “good to see you” and “when did your flight get in?” game with my competitor comrades – she finally showed up.
It took a few minutes to pull one the brokers off her leg but I finally got him to leave by pointing out a bigger client. I’m not sure who he was but I’d bet my blue blazer he’s from BTIG. I’ve seen those pitbulls in action.
I told her that I was beginning to wonder if she was going to make it. “Did your husband cancel his plans?” I asked. “Nope”, she replied. Hmmm. “I hope you didn’t leave your kids alone – did you?” She said that everything worked out because she was able to find a sitter. A sitter??? This wasn’t a Beaches Family Vacation Resort where Jamaican nannies were lined up by the kiddie pool. This was the Chicago Hilton Hotel in January. Did she surf Craigslist? I had to ask – “Where in the world did you find a babysitter?” As she raised her glass to her mouth she said, “actually” and then while trying to hide her lips behind a sip, she mumbled, “a broker is watching them”.
Wow. Now I’ve seen it all. Not even “a friend” or “someone I’ve known forever” – she used the words “a broker”. Honestly, from the client’s perspective I think it’s a brilliant and an efficient use of her ‘tools’… but as for the “broker”… Bro– are you fucking kidding me?
Hey kids – After we have a tea party and play ring around the rosie, we can play Wall Street. I’ll be the loser broker who will do absolutely anything for an order and you can pretend to be the mommy getting plastered in the hotel lobby bar with 50 out-of-town hopefuls.
Drawing the line,
Dopey
