Male Whore

The Title

2005-07-18T10:22:00.000-07:00

Some people asked me about the title of my blog. One of these was a particularly short-skirted employee who is a receptionist or maybe in HR ( they are interchangable: in fact, I suspect that every woman in HR is assigned a receptionist's seat in a way such that there is no need to hire a full-time receptionist. )

So here is a credible answer about "Male Whore", though only in retrospect, like the genius of selling stock on Sept 10, 2001.

Like a prostitute who is employed in a brothel, a banker will say:-

1. I won't be in this profession forever
2. This profession is only about greed.
3. Things are very sexist here. Women get groped on a regular basis. Gropability is a job requirement.
4. You will never see a gay man on this floor.
5. I haven't read a book or visited a museum since as long as I can remember. And I fucking don't care. Why did you even ask?
6. Got tips, Broker?

The Daily Hint

2005-07-10T04:35:00.000-07:00

I was informed by a friend (also an almost-VP I know he got a lower bonus last year) that a particular co-worker of large bosoms and bonuses is acting with refreshingly emotionally independent behavior.
She pretends not to recognize him after spending every last night in his NoHo apartment applying Nutella (he mentioned an Italian product which is effectively Nutella) in the unpredictable body parts.
And he, evidently considers this neglect as a charmingly sexy act of professional caution.
When I told him she is as detached from him as he is to her, he shouted "fast trades!" which is the trader equivalent of a girl rolling her eyes.
She is the ideal date, and the fool does not know it. He is beginning to fall in love with her because he has believed what I said.

Staring

2005-06-07T01:27:00.000-07:00

Why do some people stare for a few seconds longer than normal when they wish to show displeasure?
Maybe they are mute butlers trapped in the over-cared for bodies of bankers.

Complaining

2005-05-19T00:18:00.000-07:00

A senior associate- which means, he's junior to me- has a house and a wife in Westchester. Or Short Hills. When he complained about the deer, I thought he was mentioning another fancy place downtown which I would have to pretend to know. But the deer he whined about was in his front yard, eating herbs his wife had planted.
This is the sort of competetive conversation which makes me avoid society.
We have two tall white doormen where I live. Maybe I should complain loudly about them sometime.

Eyebrows

2005-05-18T09:18:00.000-07:00

My eyebrows join somewhat.
I am too old to feel a sense of kinship to metrosexuals so I can't pay someone in Chelsea to perform a cleaning service. I am afraid I would get spotted by an intern.
I feel awkward buying tweezers and fear the tell-tale sores.
I can't go on this way.

Passive

2005-05-16T09:14:00.000-07:00

What do they mean when they say it "everything will be taken care of?" They are referring to tasks such as laundry. Why the passive voice?
Does an active voice make the organization sound uncomfortably materal- or gay? And what about "Please find enclosed?"
I advocate that the redundant language be illegalized because a McKinsey study shows that the collective waste of corporate time due to composing and reading redundant phrases is approximately $60 million each year. Forrester says that the phenomenon is growing at a rate of 12.4% a year.
This is all stressful stuff. Especially because those quotes were false, and you probably believed me.

Food

2005-05-11T00:25:00.000-07:00

I indulge my ethnic food fantasies in private. Others don't. The trading floor is often full of exotic smells and it is impossible to complain or focus on my screen. This is typically the time I choose to blog (I find this verb particularly sketchy.) This may account in part for the tone of my journal (I find this noun effeminate. The English vocabulary is severely limited.)
In any case, more food has arrived. One exotic smell has negated another. Wait-this one's for me.

Location

2005-05-06T00:43:00.000-07:00

I suddenly realized that midtown Manhattan is an invalid address. Unless it's specific like Grammercy Park, or Murray Hill. I should stop telling people I live midtown.
When I say I live midtown, just a few blocks away from the Park, people must suspect I reside in Hell's Kitchen.
Damage-control can only be achieved by a house-party which is gay. I may as well move to Hell's Kitchen and save a few bucks on rent since people have already concluded I live there. I don't blame myself for getting stressed, just thinking about this...

Lost Money

2005-05-05T00:49:00.000-07:00

Bad day at work. I turned to look at a female co-worker (she's been touching me for a while, and I was trying not to notice.) And just then, the market jolted and I lost money My bank did. My floor did. Some client making out on a yatch did.
I hope others make similar mistakes, especially the guy from Israel. I suspect he's up for promotion. I'm Jewish as well but he has a better Hebrew accent. Something stressful about being Jewish in New York.

Paris at night

2005-05-04T00:38:00.000-07:00

There is something about Paris Hilton. I mean, she isn't Paris Ritz or Paris Plaza. Yet she is our generation's Jackie Kennedy, our continent's (apologies to Canadians) Lady Di with a dog.
Would a Paris Walmart be as wonderful? Let the MBA students stress on this case study. She's just an occasional download for me. The trading floor has a healthy policy towards downloads. You can stick anything on the screen as long as it Sarbanes-compliant. Paris works for most of us, thought I have seen a young man wallpapered on the computer of a co-worker. I believe the Vice President had a word with him, so now he's back to Paris. The pressure to confrom is sometimes stressful but you have to think of life in terms of bonuses and then things becomes so clear there's no need to be caught ordering self-help books online or, worse, at a yoga class.

Music?

2005-05-03T10:07:00.000-07:00

Someone at work had the audacity to ask me what kind of music I listen to. A question like that is a trap set by a person, and this person is usually someone who earns substantially less, but considers himself socially superior. This question is his attempt to intimidate in the presence of serious-looking single women who pretend not to overhear. No man can get this answer right, not when the question is posed so suddenly, in the guise of a legitimate query.
With women what works best is to show I have no time-not even for music. So I said I don't have time, and made him look like someone who has time for himself. Someone who's going to get fired as soon as the fresh batch of pink chips get passed around.
I work hard just so I can keep ahead of such inadequate specimens of manhood. Yet they affect me in ways which even my therapist can't understand. Maybe I should fire my therapist.
All this is very stressful stuff.

Coffee

2005-04-16T10:44:00.000-07:00

I enjoy the coffee over at Dunkin Donuts. Unfortunately, it's unacceptable to arrive at work with a beverage which is not in a white and green container. For every triump of marketing, pricing and roasting, there's an unwilling customer forced to sip your product. Every.Day. Which makes the morning coffee a stressful experience.

Men in Suits?

2005-04-14T12:27:00.000-07:00

There are occasional Craigs List personals where women solicit for long-term relationships with men in suits.
This poses the immediate question: are they looking for after-work dates? If the proposed dates are for the weekends, then why business attire? And do these women tend to show up on these dubious dates dressed in business suits- becuase if they don't, will not the couple look remarkably mismatched? Why would a self-respecting man stoop to this level? New York is a small world, and someone from work could think the man is interviewing, working more than he lets on, or, depending on his ethnicity, a spy.
Regardles, it is disturbing to know that women with such notions exist, and that they are probably fairly attractive.
Stressful.

Hell on Hire

2005-04-13T23:17:00.000-07:00

After the HR had completed what they are moderatly paid to do, which is to circulate along East Coast schools like a Sephora-caked traveling circus, the potential recruits kept pouring into my calendar.
The problem with being involved for such an interview is that it creates needless stress. For I don't know whether I am asked to speak to the young people becuase my time is less valuable than that of the other guy sitting next to me on the floor, shouting "Fuck!" every three seconds. Or is my role as a recruiter the sure sign of a VP promotion, for they wish to see if I can wear all hats, including pitch this job to the unsuspecting greedy youth who vote Democratic. Ofcourse working here will make them eventually realize that bonuses are taxed at an outrageous rate of 48%, like they were illegal. But for now, answering questions concerning mentoring, growth ("this job makes you a tumor-you will grow if not timely checked by your bosses like me.") is all very stressful stuff.

A Spotty Record

2005-04-12T12:50:00.000-07:00

I may have a pimple on my nose.
It does feel strange to refer to this as a pimple (or for that matter, refer to it.) It's just that I can't afford to have a skin condition. Not in my profession.
I remember the Greek-looking associate who put on some sudden pounds, lost some money on commodities (too short, or too long-wrong) and was fired. What was strange was that they did not hire a substitute, and none of us on the trading floor felt a rise in responsibility.
Which either means he was browsing Craigs List dramatically longer than we do. Or that his job has been relocated to India. Or that the HR was so busy looking like a Hollywood team that they forgot. Probably all are true. Actually, I am sure all are true. I hate to be in doubt. All this is very stressful stuff.

Table for Two

2005-04-12T08:25:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, I need to make out with a client. Fancy restaurant, smile a lot, make her feel young, as though she's only a couple of decades older than me.
This is a job requirement, even though I am NOT in sales (those are the shallow guys who get paid for watching baseball games with potential clients.) I deal with REAL clients.
I am also responsible for the jobs of the sales guys. Because if men like us performed accurately all the time, the sales department wouldn't need to go out and salvage the numbers. We wouldn't need to spend substantial sums of money training slick MBA grads to lie with a straight face, and with perfectly manicured nails.
Maybe I would have done well on the sales side. Maybe their bonuses are better. This is all very stressful stuff.
Blogging adds to the stress because Blogger, I noticed makes me feel a loss of control. For example, there is a punctuation error on my profile.
[(bad work hours). ]
This affects the image of my blog, and it affects me. As far as I can see, it is completely irreversible.
Update: The error has been rectified.

In the mood for a free taxi ride

2005-04-12T02:46:00.000-07:00

Today I am in the mood for a free taxi ride. I think I will browse at my desk till after 7. This is not a bad job, and whoever says so is jealous. Also, thank God for Craig's List.