MONKEY BUSINESS SWINGING THROUGH THE WALL STREET JUNGLE PDF

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on e • USlness Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle John Rolfe and Peter Troob ERBOOKS A Time Warner Company When we started writing this book. PDF Download Monkey Business: Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle BY - John Rolfe Read Online. 1. PDF Download Monkey Business. raukhamatfrogal.tk Download PDF Monkey Business: Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle, PDF.


Monkey Business Swinging Through The Wall Street Jungle Pdf

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Free Monkey Business Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle They're investment bankers: They're rich. They're glamorous. They're movers. They're shakers. Editorial Reviews. From Publishers Weekly. As eager-beaver business school students, Rolfe and Troob garnered job offers as junior associates at the elite Wall. Meet John and Peter, two young business school graduates about to become frustrated foot Rolfe J., Troob P. Monkey Business: Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle. Файл формата pdf; размером ,80 МБ Monkey business pulls off Wall Street's suspenders and gives the reader the inside skinny on real life at.

The G o l dman interviewers sat me ing i nterview w ith them came on Su nday, when I m et at a l on g table. That was because he was tal l , good looking, and a smooth tal ker. B l ake l ooked l i ke a GQ model, and he was always the guy out on the front l i nes pitc h i n g the busi ness. He was damned good at it. G reg Wei n stei n was a j ack-of-al l-trades at DLJ.

Many people i n the fi rm wanted to whack G reg u pside the head. I wou l d soon l earn that h i s n i c kname was the Widow, as in the black widow spider, becau se a b l ack w idow spider ki l l s her lover i mmed iate l y after fucking it. We cal led h i m Sweetcheeks.

A l l the j u n ior bankers loved Sweetcheeks because he was real ly, tru l y n ice. That made h i m a prized commod ity. H owever, Syveetcheeks had to compete with guys w h ose c h ee ks were n 't as sweet as h i s, and th i s sometimes posed an i nteresti ng d i lemma for h i m. I sat d own a n d B lake said, " H ow about those Knicks?

We tal ked about Ewing and whether it wou ld be h i s last c h ance at a championsh ip. So, do you th i n k that you were a good a n a l yst or an excel lent analyst? B ut th i s ti me G reg Wei n stei n was aski ng the question. I cou l d a l ready tel l that he was a pompous ass. I was ready. The answer was o bvious. For the Widow that was the I. I 'knew that I had a good c hance of getti ng. You're the man. You ' re a great guy and we want to tal k to you.

Before we d i scuss what we have to ask you, though, do you have any other offers from any other i nvestment banks? If I had no other offers, then I was a dud and they, too, sho u ld th ink of me as a loser and not worthy of work i ng for them. It was a wei rd, i nsec u re game the investment banks played.

I actua l l y only had one other offer and one pend ing, but I wanted them to th i n k that I was a desirable candidate. They took the bait and the heavy amm u n ition came out. The mati n g dance was stepped up a notch. You ' l l get paid the best here and you ' l l be treated wel l. Come on, j u m p aboard. You're oui' favorite guy. You rem i nd me of Les Newton [a very young and very successfu l banker].

Yes, you could move ahead quickly. We' re also th inking of paying more th is summer. Maybe a stipend or a bonus at the end of the year. That was good, especial l y because I was paying for busi ness school and I needed the cas h.

The top brass were young, and I figu red that rapid acceleration through the ranks at D LJ was ach i evable. I thought that I wou l d fit right i n. I t a l l happened s o fast. It sou n ds sort of a nticl i m actic, but it's the truth. I tru ly had no idea what I worse when it became clear to the interviewers that I had no idea what an investment banker actually did.

I was promptly dismissed from their hiring roster. I'd always assumed that I could figure out that piece of the puzzle later on, but they saw it differently. I could tell them that I had the tools but not the instructions. It worked. At least for a while. The second was Rod Ferramo, an associate. Now at the time, there was no way I could have known who was facing me, but later it would all become clear. Yves was fifty-five.

Yves was thinning out up top but had grown out the hair on the sides and back of his head just long enough to put it into a ponytail. Yves was a flashy dresser. The day I met him, he was wearing an Armani suit and a bright red Sulka tie. He looked like Steven Seagal meets Wall Street and I couldn't tell if he wouldn 't just as soon kick my ass as interview me. With t h i s one- m i nute con versation, I had sealed my fate for a s ummer job as wel l as for permanent employment after b u s i ness schoo l.

I h ad made a career choice. I thought that I was on my way to heaven. Troob knew the game, that was his advantage. I didn't, which meant that the path I took in order to catch the brass ring was a little bit more circuitous. While the usual suspec ts like Troob were getting slotted for interviews with every imaginable bank, the career-changers like me were fightin g for the remaining scraps.

As for me, the distribution of over forty resumes and cover letters h ad landed me exactly three interviews: By the time I rolled into my interview with DLJ, the crumb ling of the dream was one step closer to being complete. I'd already punted on my first two interviews. The First Boston interview had taken a turn for the 35 To most, they may be known as strip joints or titty bars, but to Yves they were always the "dance clubs.

I was later told that Yves's infatuation with dance clubs went so far as to entail his having a custom-designe d computer database containing the names, addresses, and qualitative attributes of dance clubs worldwide, all indexed by city. As I walked into the interview room, Yves and Rod were sitting back with their feet up on the interview table, plowing their way through a large plate of fruit.

Nice to meet you. I hope you don' t mind if we eat while you're talking. I mean I like to work hard. I want to work a lot of hours. I don't know much about it right noW but I think I'd be good at it.

I've done a lot of other shit, just never anything like this. I'll be honest with you guys, I'm not gonna waste anybody 's time here by trying to weave a tapestry of bullshit, I'm just going to tell it like it. I was sitting at home that night when the phone rang. Good news. We're going to be holding them over at the Four Seasons tomorrow morning. We've got you slotted in for a nine A. Good luck. I'd actually cleared the first hurdle.

The second-round interviews wouldn't be so easy. For the second round I interviewed with a senior vice president named Jack Gatorski, who I'd soon learn was nicknamed Gator. His sidekick was a vice president, Mack Reeling. Gator sat down and threw the first punch. This time, though, it fell on deaf ears. There were no chuckles, no smiles, no conspiratorial nods of understanding.

I'd hit my iceberg and was too far from shore for anybody to hear my calls for help. The phone rang. It's Mack Reeling from DL].

I'm sorry, but we're not going to be able to make you an offer for the summer associate class. All was blackness and death.

I'd be the only first-year Wharton MBA student who hadn't been able to land a summer job. Years later the legend would have perpetuated itself, they'd remember me as the Loser of the Class.

I began to resign myself to my destiny. Little did I know, however, that much more powerful' forces were at work. The forces of sex and desire. That libido was busy working overtime in my favor. Flash back twelve hours. Now as it turned out, a close friend and classmate of mine, Veronica, also happened to be spending her Friday evening at the Dock Street Brewery with a couple of our other Wharton compadres.

One flick of her hair later, Veronica's blond locks had found their way into Yves's tumbler of overpriced scotch, thereby providing an ideal opening for conversation. And it wasn't long after that before Veronica did a further bit of digging to discover that Yves had actually been the one to lead the first-round interview with me.

Her devices: It wasn't long before Yves was feeding Veronica drinks, downloading her dinner, and pumping quarters into the side of the pool table to keep her occupied.

Once she had him fully enraptured, Veronica launched her subtle plan of attack. Veronica blithely turned the conversation toward the events of the day, namely Yves's recruiting activities. Moreover, she assured him, I already had numerous job offers on the table, and if DLj wasn't prepared to act.

That was the clincher. There was no way that DLj could pass up on a potential candidate who was wildly attractive to a bunch of other banks. If the other guys liked me that much I must be good. Really good.

Monkey Business: Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle

Veronica's carefully crafted dialogue, coupled withjust , the right number of touches, caresses, and beguiling glances, was more powerful than the most potent magic spell. All that mattered was that. Do you have a minute? It seems that when word got higher up in the organization that you hadn 't been made a summer offer somebody went to bat for you.

That extra spot's for you if you want it. When do you guys need to know whether I want to accept the offer or not? The fox was in the henhouse. We were the best of the best, the e l i te of Sununer Boot Camp For the right amount of money, you 're willing to eat Alpo.

It was the fi rst time I h ad ever met Rolfe. I remember that Rolfe was sweating a lot. There were n i ne of us a l l told; eight men and one woman-th ree from Harvard, three from Col u mbia, Wal l Street's financial mavens.

Monkey business : swinging through the Wall Street jungle

And we weren't go i ng to be pussyfooting around that s u m mer, oh no. We were goi ng to be treated l i ke rea l , full-time associ ates. We were goi ng to have to h it the ground ru nn i ng because we were goi ng to do deals.

By the end of the su mmer we wou l d know, they assu red us, what it was l i ke to be a fu l l-time assoc i ate at D LJ. It wou ld be someth i ng aki n to the parish priest in S ioux City, Iowa, being chosen to become the Pope and turn i ng it down.

It j ust d idn't happen. There was noth i ng that any of us wanted more than a phone cal l i n the fal l offeri ng us a fu l l-time position at D LJ fol lowi ng graduation. The al l-n ight work and three from Wharto n.

Ou r o r i entatio n w a s b r i ef, l asti ng o n l y about two sessions, the su bsu m i n g of any semblance of pride, the absol ute devotion to the job-a l l wou ld arise as a res u lt hours. A cont i n gency of fu l l-time associates, as wel l as a of that si ngle-m i nded desi re. We a l l knew how the su mmer job was supposed to be handfu l of more sen ior bankers, came through to greet us. They m ad e s u re that we u nderstood j u st what it meant played.

It was a game of surviva l. We' d l oathe o u rse l ves for be i ng s n i ve l i n g l ittl e ass-kiss i n g s u m mer bankers, but i f w e wanted to get the fu l l -time offer, then we had to play the game. So, our su mmer was fu l l of carrying pitch books, run n i ng m odel s, faking s m i l es, l ate n ights, and self-degrad i ng ass k i ss i ng.

We were the butt boys and i ndentured servants for a generation of sen ior bankers. We'd be fucked. The p roblem was that our des i re was no secret, and every banker i n the j o i nt was p repared to ful ly exploit it. The best of them wou l d dangle that golden carrot out in front as they cracked the wh i p beh i nd, exhorting us to push j u st a l ittle harder.

As members of a s u mmer assoc iate class, we were s u p posed to be there to s u p port each other. We were a l l i n i t together, after al l. B ut at the end of every day, none of us " knew exactl y how many fu l l -ti me offers woul d be made that com i ng fal l. If o n l y six fu l l -time positions were associate class, then why the hel l wou ld we want to help each other out in a bind? Some other assoc iate's offer cou ld wel l be the one that we didn 't get.

So as we sat around the table at orientation that morn ing, eyeing each other warily, j u st the s l ightest h i nt of distrust hung i n the air. Al l the critical i nformation was conveyed to us d u r i ng that two-hou r orientation: By the end of the orientation the secrets regard ing how to l ive the good l ife at the fi rm's expense had been laid bare. The Bullp en Fol lowing ou r breakfast meeting we were l ed to our new offices. The sum mer assoc iate offices were in an internal area of the bank known only as the B u l l pen.

N atu ra l l y, the g reener the b a n ker the h a rder he worked, which meant that the B u l l pen h u m med around the clock days a year.

L i ke the hold of a s lave s h i p, it was i n the m i ddl e of the bui lding tucked away i n a n area where visitors to the D LJ offices wou ld never see it. It housed eleven offices, five s i ngles and s ix doubles, which surro u n ded a s izabl e common area. The carpeting was dingy, the wal l s fi lthy. W hoever it was shou l d have known better.

Each associate, i n h i s o r her w i ndowless office, had a standard-issue steel desk, fi l i ng cabi net, and adj ustable chai r. The desks and fi l i n g cabi n ets looked l i ke they'd been carted off a NATO base. The chai rs were s l ightly more u p-to-date, a necessity given that we'd be spending the m ajority of both o u r waking and sleep ing hou rs i n them over the com ing months. A l l this fu rn iture sat on a worn carpet.

The wa l ls were scuffed with n u merous heel marks, and the fl uorescent l ights h u mmed constantly l i ke a set of h igh-voltage electric w i res. B y the time we moved once again j ust as it always had-a tangled mass of pitch books, financial fi l i ngs, and research reports. No personal effects.

No pictu res of loved ones. D LJ was our fam i ly now, and there cou ld be no competing loyalties. The B u l l pen stood in stark contrast to the majority of the D LJ office space. N ot the B u l l pen, though. The Bu l l pen was a l l about busi ness, which was befitti ng for a p l ace where m ost of the rea l work got done.

Wh i l e the B u l l pen's general atmosphere was in large part set by the wretched physical conditions there i n , of equal i m portance i n determin ing the ambience was the general stress l evel of its you ng bankers.

At any given moment, staccato expletives cou l d be heard eru pti ng from m u ltiple B u l l pen offices: On o u r fi rst day as s u m me r assoc iates, though, we didn't know any of this. As o n e of o u r c lassmates, Enrico de la Hernandez Franca-a Peruvian by bi rth-would l ater put it: It's impe rative least one member of the su mmer associate class wou l d be encou raged to put the wood to a t least o n e of t h e BAs over the course of the summer.

We congregated aro u n d the center of the B u l l pen, maki ng smal l tal k and wondering when we were going to start doi ng dea l s. Never m i nd that most of u s had no idea what doing a deal enta i l ed. We knew that we were there to do deals, that we weren't doi ng them presently, and that I h ave a taste. For the du ration of the summer, their offices wou ld be i n the B u l l pen with o u rs.

That day, they gave us some sage advice: They answered phones, did g raph ics work, prepared docu ments, made travel arrangements, and did database work. Thei r tasks were to ensure that we al l had good s ummer experiences and to shepherd us through the pol itical maze that was DLJ. Don't ever wish for more, because that nightmare w i l l i nevitably come true.

If it's seven P. Go the fuck home. H eather, H i l lary, wise words. A second-year assoc iate wou l d l ater ing, and convi nce ou rselves that we, too, needed to be there doing someth i ng. After several for. That bothered h i m. He began to worry that he was an u ntouchable. There were a couple of moments of s i l ence.

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Perentazz i, y o u o u t there? G et i n here so that I can get you up to speed.

I need you to be on a p l ane to Cleveland with in the n ext two h o u rs. H ig h yield? It all sounded so exciting. We cou ld see it, S l i c k had been staffed on a deal w ith in the fi rst cou p le of hou rs; it cou l d n 't be m uc h longer before the rest of us got staffed.

Hel l , by the e n d of the first week we'd al l be doing deals j u st l i ke old-ti mers. We cou ld hardly wait.

Eagerness and Fear Rol fe and I knew that desi re alone, u nfortunately, didn't get anybody staffed on deals. So we had to wait. I didn't understand how random the whole staffing process was. With each passing day, as my summer classmates gradually got staffed on deals and I didn't, my paranoia increased.

I saw the summer passing before my eyes with nothing to show for it. When I finally got staffed, though, my demeanor would quickly change from concern that I'd never get a chance to prove myself to realization that I was incapable of proving anything.

If ignorance was bliss, my beatific aura should have rivaled that of a magic bus full of Moonies. The call, when it came, was from Wex. One of the financial sponsors we do work for is contemplating a downloadout of a medical supply company.

They may want us to provide some high-yield financing for the transaction. We ' re gonna need a model, comps, the whole nine yards. Why don't you corrie grab it and take a look at it.

A junk bond financing for a hostile takeover, I couldn' t have asked for anything better for my first deal. I knew nothing about the medical supply industry and had so much to learn. Wex had merely supplied me with five hundred pages of documents so that nobody would accuse him of not having given me all the relevant material.

He was covering his ass and it was up to me to determine what really mattered and what didn't. I'd made my way through about a hundred pages of the stack when Wex called back two hours later.

We need a leveraged downloadout model by late this afternoon. We've got a meeting with Greg Weinstein at six o'clock. They don't call him the Widow for nothing, man. You better get it together. This guy eats summer associates for breakfast. Who was this guy they were calling the Widow? I'd built financial spreadsheets before in business school, but I'd spent days, not hours, on them. I thought briefly about downloading a van, dropping a tab of acid, and heading out for Santa Cruz.

You've got to re. I'll get Troob. He's an ex-analyst. He'll know how to build a model. I didn ' t have to build the model. I'd been able to forestall inevitable failure. I sat back in my chair and breathed a sigh of relief. Problem was, it slowly dawned on me, I didn't know what a transaction multiple was. There wasn't going to be any easy way out of this one, I' d have to suck i t up and confess my ignorance.

I called Wex back. There's a little bit of a problem here. I'm not sure that I know what a transaction multiple is. Can you give me some help? Call Troob and ask him to explain it to you, all right?

Don' t forget, we have to meet on this at six tonight so you'd better get it together and figure this out. There was silence on the other end of the phone.

This was a new one for him. He was also trying to secure a full-time offer, so why should he save my ass? He came to my office and shook his head.

Perhaps, in his mind, I was testing him, or more likely he worried that in some perverse way I could turn my idiocy against him like a weapon. Ignorance, after all, could be the most dangerous weapon of all. Troob knew the investment banking lingo. He tutored me like a third grader with flash cards, imparting his knowledge. This is how you do it," he instructed. You just keep your mouth shut. Everything'll be OK. This deal's never gonna get off the ground, anyway.

You can take a quick look-at the numbers and see that. I threw in a few random Comments, ones that I hoped wouldn't further betray my lack of investment banking knowledge. Troob had been right. There was a consolation, though. I'd found a new friend in Troob. He' d saved me from the Widow's fatal clutches, and for that l owed him my life.

H e owed m e one after that. H e was green, real l y green, but he was smart and he didn't have an attitude. I figu red that if I taught h i m a few th ings, he'd be a guy I cou l d rely on. I knew I 'd need that. The Social Scene: The i r plan was a m icrocosm of what they wou ld try to do to u s once we' d signed on fu l l-ti me. At that poi nt, they'd pep per us with a parade of h igh-profi le events-black-tie dances, expen- The s u m mer assoc i ate experience at D LJ centered a ro u n d a c a l endar of soc i a l events: From our fi rst day a s s u m me r- D LJers, we were made to u n derstand that when it came to getting a fu l l-time offer, our attendance at the s u mmer soci a l fu nctions was equal in i mportance to o u r o n -the-job performance.

Of cou rse, t h i s advice had predi ctably fal le n by the wayside by ou r th i rd week o n the job, at w h i c h poi nt the majority of the summer being seated, the l iquor started to flow freely. The l iq uor barrage was a result of the efforts of one Rod Ferramo, the associate who had origi n a l ly i nterviewed Rolfe down at Wharton.

Ferramo was an old-school vulgarian, born and bred in G reenwich, Con necticut. Rumor had it that on a busi ness tri p to Mexi co for DLJ, he'd once spent th ree thousand dol l ars for two local whores to serv ice h i m in his hotel room. G iven that a U pon o u r arrival a t the restau rant, a n d prior to our moderately priced south-of-the-border whore was going for l ess than fifty bucks at the ti me, Ferramo's weakness for upper-end pleasu res was evi dent.

Wexler and B rown , the two fu l l-ti me associates ru n n i ng the summer program, h ad deci ded to break us i n easy on That n i ght, though, it wasn't Ferramo's l ust for flesh that wou l d d ictate o u r dem i se but h i s penchant for dru n kenness.

Ferramo i m medi ately began orde r i ng u p rou n ds of shots for everybody, whether they wanted them or n ot. Th i s p resented the c l ass with so meth i ng of a di lem ma. We wanted to be p rofess i o n a l , but enough o u r fi rst n ight out and h ad p l a n ned di n ner for u s at a local barbecue dive fol lowed by some dancing at a Midtown bei ng dangerous.

There we were with rounds of shots bei ng passed arou nd. It was clear that we were bei ng set c l u b-Le Bar Bat.

I n addition to the summer associates, up for an eve n i ng of drun ken excess. The BAs' presence not o n l y ensu red to the greater good. He q u i c k l y pos itioned h i m se l f beh i n d her, wh ipped out his hogan, and as she conti nued her l itany of expurgation he straddled her backside, grabbed her h ips, and began to grind her from beh i nd in a s i m u lation We a l l took o u r shots of jaegermeister. After we'd been seated, the waitress came over to take the appetizer orders.

Ferramo took it u pon h i mself to order for a l l of us. I don't want to see a n y body's g l ass em pty. Then came the debaucherous display of Rod Ferramo. One of the BAs, Hope, h ad been downing shots w ith i ncreasi n g rap i dity over the cou rse of the even i ng.

The com b i n ation of the shots, the heat, and the level of the music at Le Bar B at had p u s hed her beyond her l i m its. As she stood at the bar waiti n g for her next dri n k to arrive, an u n co ntro l l a b l e u rge to vom it overcame her. She ducked her head u n derneath the bar, and 'began spewing forth a fragrant m i xtu re of barbecue ch icken and Captai n Morgan s p i ced ru m. As we viewed th is display from across the dance floor we were thoroug h l y befuddl ed.

Was th is guy real ly so desperate and so sexually depraved? What the hel l was goi ng on? D i d the pressu re j u st cause some of the others to snap?

We didn't know. Maybe it was the sleepless n ights. Maybe it was the lack of a social l ife. Maybe it was the opportun ity to fi nal ly not be the one getti ng s h it upon but to be the one doi ng th e shitting. Either way, we didn 't real ize that in the not-too-distant future we, too, wou l d be fu l l-time associates doing th i ngs we never thought we wou l d stoop so low to do.

It was u ncan ny what a twenty-fou r-hou r, seven-day-a-week nonstop-stress career choice wou ld do to our j u dgment. The Social Scene II: Many of the di nners, basebal l games, and n ights dri n king and dan c i ng were u neventfu l. Others were, however, notable in their own right. Jen rette was a l egend on Wal l Street.

Jen rette was famous not only as one. For o u r summer associate class a chance to meet the man was a real honor. B as i ca l l y, the reason for u s to meet Jen rette was sum med up by an older assoc iate. He said, "It's a yearly trad iti o n. The old man sucks it u p for a n ight and presses the flesh with a l l the s u m mer id iots.

I th i n k they figure that trotting Jen rette out gets people to sign on fu l l-time when the offers come out i n the fal l. Special perm ission had been sought, and granted, to a l low for the presence of our one female su mmer associate c lassmate, D iane.

Jenrette made his own rou nds to each of us and, i n the most gracious manner possible, l istened i ntently as formulate mean ingless, i nane questions about the futu re of DLj. O n l y one of ou r classmates d i sti ngu ished himself we sta mmered out how honored we were to meet h i m a n d how we were so i n cred i b l y thankfu l to have been given the opportun ity to spend our su mmer at DLJ. With our busi ness school debts, most of u s were worth about fifty dol lars.

We were young. We j ust had noth i ng i n com mon. The fact that we knew he wou l d feign i nterest i n o u r miserable l ives made the specter of conversation that m uch more unappeal i ng. The usual garbage spil led forth from ou r mouths as we d rew u po n our busi ness school ski l l s to I d u ring this session, Mike Stevens.

Stevens was one of the Harvard boys. Stevens was a big man, he'd played footbal l for Penn as an u ndergraduate. Over the cou rse of the s u mmer, most of us had come to the con c l usion that Steve n s was a man ic-depress i ve. A common fixtu re i n al l the summer assoc iates' offices were foam footba l l s that were gifts from a foam process ing company w hose i n itial public offering DLJ had recently u nderwritte n.

Steven s cou ld frequently be seen in any n um ber of offices in the B u l l pen clasping one of the foam footbal l s to h i s abdomen and rol l i ng around on the floor, p roclai m i ng a l l the w h i l e that he was going to i mpart h i s footbal l knowledge to the masses by offering each of o u r B A s free fum b le-recovery lessons there on' the office floor.

Prior to retu rn i ng to busi ness school, Stevens had been a n i nvestm e nt b a n k i ng analyst with me at Kidder Peabody. The col l eague had been fu riou s u pon retu rn ing to his office the fol lowi ng Monday morn i ng, b ut even h e had to admire Stevens's determ ination. Stevens's focus and determ i nation cou ld just as easily manifest them selves th rough h i s dark side, however. H is tem per was l egendary. DLJ had ind icated at s wer o ng gnt nighte rs, but the rel datory event. As Jen rette l a u n c hed into a d i scou rse on potenti a l areas ripe for expansion in the i nvestment banking world, a struggl e of epic p roportions began to u nfol d d i rectly across the table from us.

With each word that came out of Jen rette's m outh, Stevens's eyel ids grew heavier. H is head fel l backward, h is mouth fell wide open, and there he lay i n deep s l u m ber w h i l e the chai rman of the board a nswered the q uestion Stevens had. Fortu nately for Stevens, Jen rette was too good of a man to d raw attention to h is cond ition. In the investment ban ki ng land of wal l-to-wa l l h ard-asses, the man was a true gentleman. When it came to these pitches, one managing d i rector took the b l u e ribbo n.

He'd only been at DLJ for two short months and he'd al ready garnered a reputation as one of the most fearsome pitch book generators in D LJ h i story.

Legend had it that among the j u n ior ban kers at Leh man he'd been the most revi led man on staff, and upon his departu re the enti re analyst class had th rown a party where the col lective level of joy approached that at C h rist's resu rrection. B u bbles was as short as they came-somewhere between a dwarf and a midget, and co l l ective conjectu re was that h i s tyra n n ical behavior was as much a result of a Napoleon com plex as anyth i ng else.

There's an important tenet of investment ban king: It's not the work you have to do but who you have to do it for. The job included lots of humi l iation, and a wi l l i ngness to take it up t,h e rear Vasel i ne. For the most part, the ' s um me r consisted of a whole ,lot of pitches a nd j ust a few scattered d eals. In conc ept, the idea was a simp le one.

In real ity, it. B u bble s's p itch boo ks cou l d conta i n anyw here from. For each pote ntial cand idate, the pitch book contai n ed a s u m mary of the com pany 's prod uct l i nes, a l i stin g of curr ent news events on the com pany,.

It was a lot of i nfor mat ion.

It fil l ed up a lot of page s. The asso ciates a n d anal ysts, thou gh, had been. Creation of a pitch s al i ke Bub bles was approach ed by anal ysts and asso ciate man uas an activ ity aki n to the i l l u mination of a holy script by med ieva l mon ks. He bypassed the usua l staffm f. As chan nels, prefe rring to corra l the fresh meat h i msel der the weeks passed, moreover, his amb ition s grew gran the and gran der.

As h i s amb ition s i ncre ased so, too, did les's num ber of com pani es i nc l uded in each pitch. He and l i eved that everybody was tryi ng to steal h i s ideas , he this drove him to swear all j u n ior bankers with who m rs worked to total secrecy. Th i s led to d ed quen t conversat ions that, taken out of context, sou n posit ively l udicrous.

For i n stanc e: I 've been th i n k i n g, why don't we look at a scen ario where Big Bear acqu i res Pumpern ickel Doug h's Butter bean d ivisio n? Both Ki netic I and K i n etic I I were design ed as gener ic pitche s that cou ld be made to any of the b i g financ ial downloader s. L i ke a two-dol lar whore, Kineti c I had made the financ ial downloader rounds on Wal l Street. Altho ugh none of them had been tempted by the bait, B u bbles had been embo ldened by his fi rst trip roun d the Street to take anoth er shot at the stars.

And so, the beast that wou ld becom e K i n etic I I was born. And with a. Rol fe h ad estab l i shed h i s reputation early on in the summ er as master of the pitche s. It was no su rprise, therefore, that he was the one chosen to augment the origj nal Kinetic I pitch team for the genesis of Kinetic I I.

With h is add ition, the team stood at five: When Bu bbles cal led the shots, they a l l j u mped. Goldfarb was busy on a real deal and Adam was as elus ive as a fox, so as l uck wou ld have it, Rolfe and Sl ick became the Ki netic II go-to guys. Ki netic II went through so many rewrites and d rafts that the latest vers ion was rarely ever more than two hours old. As the day approached for the fi rst presentation of the Kinetic I I pitch book to one of the fi nancial downloaders, the level of frenzy surrou nd i ng the project i ncreased.

Rolfe and S l ick were looking forward to h is departu re because, although they knew that he was n ever more than a p hone cal l away, they' bel ieved that the logistics of h is cal l i ng to demand more changes to the book wou ld at least s low down the rate of cal ls they had, to that poi nt, been receivi ng.

What they didn't know was that B ubbles was about to both cement h i s reputati on as a d i c kweed and teac h them the futi l ity of ever bel ieving that they cou l d escape their masters' c l utches, all with one phone cal l. I'm calling from the plane. Look, I've got lots of changes to the book. You two are gonna have to get these processed as quickly as possible.

Our meeting's at nine tomorrow morning. We 've got a draft of the book here. Why don't you start going through the changes one by one. Most of the changes are to section two. I want to change the structure of this section around. Change the chart on page forty to a more neutral color like yellow.

You guys should know better than to put a chart in red. Red means losses-c'mon guys, get with the program. I scribbled down the desired changes furiously while Slick reordered pages in a whirlwind of paper. We were down to the short s trokes. Bubbles had departed New York on a 3: I was sitting at my desk fiftee n minute s later, at 3: Heather, one of our BAs, picked it up. He says it's urgent. I yelled to Slick, "Slick, get in here, Bubbles is on.

I picked up the phone. I 've got Perentazzi in here. I ' m gonna put you o n the box. What's up? We don' t want to fuck this up. I'll do i t once more, but you' d" better listen carefully. I 've got other things that I need to be doing.

I checked his second run-through against my notes and everything was checking out fine. My anxiety moderated slightly. I muted the speakerphone and turned to Slick.

Everything he just read back matches what I've got written down here. I've been rearranging pages here and nothing that he just said makes any sense.

He's got us writing text headers on section title pages, and has us pulling out pages that cover all the key financial data. This doesn't make any fucking sense. I took the phone off mute. We're trying to get everything straight here. He just read us off the page numbers, how could nothing match? Are you guys there?

I don't have time for this shit. Heather, our BA, and a couple of our summer associate classmates had heard the commotion on the speakerphone and had now stuck their heads through my office door to lis" ten. I took the speakerphone off mute once again. Could you read them off one more time. I may be working from an older draft version than you, but don't worry about the fucking page numbers.

Just listen to what you have to do and then do it. Think, you stupid assholes. He wasn't a happy man. He began to read through the list of changes again, twice as fast and twice as loud. I muted the phone and looked at Slick. He looked back at me as Bubbles continued t6 read. Man, I hate this guy. They're confusing us. Then the eruption occurred.

As Bubbles's diatribe continued Slick and I started to " laugh. There was Bubbles, 35, feet up in the air in an apoplectic rage. We, meanwhile, were on the ground in New York and there was absolutely noth;. He hung up the phone and Slick and I got to work trying to untangle the wicked web of changes Bubbles had delivered.

Seventeen hours later, I would deliver the books to the offices of D. If it hadn't, the visit to D. The D. Thompson partner who greeted us was straight out of a Charles Dickens novel. He had stuffed his generous ass into a tight p air of seersucker trousers. Stuffed into that mouth was an unlit cigar that had been chewed down to a raggedy, soggy pulp, and which was leaving tobacco shards all over his teeth, lips, and sideburns.

Bubbles started out the meeting in his customary style with an effusive show of gratitude for having been granted the meeting. He then proceeded to launch into a needless round of name-dropping, during which Chester cut him short. If you open your book to page four, the table of contents, you can see what we've got lined up. You know I hate bakeries. You 've got four baking companies liste d in here.

This is a waste of my time. I think that you might want to consider these. And Bubbles, the little bastard, had knoWn ah ;d of time that this guy with the sideburns didn't like bakeries. Gonna be lots of dead people over the next few years. I wouldn 't mind owning a piece of the market that sucks their money up before their corpses get dropped down into the dirt.

One of our ideas had sparked a flicker of interest from Chester. Chester, however, was like a fat pussycat whose attention was drawn by a passing cockroach. There would be no deal for Bubbles and DLJ that day. Kinetic II's first foray out of the box had been a resounding failure, It was a harbinger of what was to come. As I sat in Chester's office that day, I should perhaps have looked at things differently.

Instead of looking upon Chester as an aberration in the human gene pool, I should have realized that it was Bubbles and I who were the human detritus. As I watched Bubbles do everything but chug down Chester's cock with the goal of securing a piece of business, I should have been ashamed. I should have immediately cast off my leather shoes and woolen suit and gone streaking naked from the room in search of redemption.

I should have, at the very least, realized that the Chesters of the world were the ones with the purse strings, and the guys with the purse strings were the ones in control. I should have thought about the number of nights that I'd been at the office until 3 A. I didn't do any of that, though. And for that oversight, I would pay. And so it was that the s u m mer d ragged on for Rolfe and me. Pitches, d eals, d i n ners, n ights on the town, it was one long conti nuous ban k-a-thon. Lots of learni ng, l ittl e sleep, a n d a healthy serving of hu m b l e pie.

Eventu a l l y it came to an end. The summer had been pai nfu l , but it was over. Rolfe and I swore we wou l d never go back. We promised ourselves that we wou ld try to get a n offer from DLJ and then use it to fi nd other, more reward i ng jobs. Once again, we were bel i ev i ng our own bu l l s h it. What we d idn't know was that D LJ was beefi ng up and we were the beef. DLJ needed bod ies, lots of bod ies, a n d they needed them fast. Because of that, j u st about al l the su mmer associates wou ld get offers.

It was a much more serious offense. Duri ng the Summer Assoc iate Golf O uti ng, Rolfe had managed to h it the managing d irector i n charge of associ ate recruiti n g, Doug Franken, i n the leg on the fifth hole. Rolfe d idn't j ust bean h i m i n the leg, he had done it at Fran ken's own country c lu b and w ith one of the Title i st golf bal ls that F ranken had lent to Rolfe. D u ri ng a n other su m mer, Rolfe's transgress ions m ight have gotten h i m d i nged. Fortu nately for Rolfe, DLJ needed assoc iates.

The Courtship I don 't believe we 've ever met. I'm Mr. We hadn 't exercised that much, we 'd worked long hours, and we were tired. A summer that we had thought was going to be filled with social engagements, weekends in the Hamptons, and dating turned out to be a summer filled with work.

They told us that if we came back full-time we would be handsomely rewarded. We went back to our second year of business school, me to Wharton and Troob to Harvard. Within two months the recruitiJ: He was a pigeon, and I could hear him squawking all the way down at Wharton: He said that he played golf a l l the time, and did deals, in between holes, that made him rich.

He seemed to be having fu n. He had the l ife, or so I thought. Wel l , m y moral high ground was about as sturdy as a d ru nk cowboy's shooting hand. I was weak. I cal led Rolfe and asked h im what he was goi ng to do and h e tol d me that he was goi n g to hold out. Ed Star and Les N ewton came to town. I'd worked with both of these guys d u ri ng the s u m mer.

They were u p i n B oston to seal the deal, to close the transaction, to lock me in. I was a project to them, j u st another deal that they n eeded to c lose.

Rolfe J., Troob P. Monkey Business: Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle

I was a steer and these were two cattle ranchers rou n d i n g m e up. They wanted to brand my ass w ith a hot i ron. Loo k i n g back, I had no chance. Wal l Street. I n the Merchant Bank even the j u n io r ban kers were al lowed to participate i n the deals. There were dues to pay, pa i n to experience, and a long jou rney from associate to managi ng d i rector. He may have been my role model, but I was foo l i ng myself to th i n k that it came easy. Les Newton was the golden c h i l d.

He had it al l. H e l ooked rested and relaxed. He was m ade of ru bber, and he was w hat al l M BAs hoped they cou l d be. He had also probably kissed more ass than a toi l et seat sees i n a year. I also wanted to be l i ke Les. Les was a good guy. Les played his cards right, played the game wel l , and he was rewarded for it.

They d i dn't have to corral m e and l ead me to slaughter, I was ready and wi l l ing to wal k i nto They took me to a stri p bar and we spent tons of dough, and then we went to a! I was as l u bed as steaks, and d rank expensive bottles of red wine.

People ished the evening off with gl asses of port, cheesecake, cigars; and a discuss ion. They rea l l y pou red it on and I was loose as a goose and eating it a l l u p. This was what I said that he had bought a house in the H a m ptons for had i magi ned bank i ng was a l l about. Be the first to like this. No Downloads. Views Total views.

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Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle 2. Book Details Author: John Rolfe Pages: Grand Central Publishing Brand: English ISBN: Description They Hit "The Street. Monkey Business pulls off Wall Street's suspenders and gives the reader the inside skinny on real life at an investment bank, where the promised land is always one more twenty-hour workday and another lap dance away.

They had signed on as foot soldiers in a white-collar army of overworked and frustrated lemmings furiously trying to spin straw into gold. They escaped with the remnants of their sanity-and, ultimately, this book. Uncensored, unsanitized, and uncut, it captures the chaotic essence of the Wall Street carnival and the outlandish personalities that make it all hum Swinging Through the Wall Street Jungle, click button download in the last page 5.

Download or read Monkey Business: You just clipped your first slide! Clipping is a handy way to collect important slides you want to go back to later. Now customize the name of a clipboard to store your clips. Visibility Others can see my Clipboard.On the one hand, the banks wanted to give explod ing offers so that the business school students wou ldn't use the offers to fi n d better jobs.

In fact, miles to the north, at that most venerable of all institutions-the Harvard Business. Maybe I shou l d h ave. I'd be the only first-year Wharton MBA student who hadn't been able to land a summer job.

One screw u p and I was out. You know I hate bakeries.

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