When I came back on that Monday, I noticed a few more empty chairs than normal. Mr. Burrito grabbed me before I could settle in. “Coffee. Let’s go.” As any banking analyst will tell you, Starbucks (Starfucks, Fourbucks) is the central depository for all things gossip-related. It’s where analysts go to bitch about their superiors, associates/VPs go to bitch about their analysts, and MDs go to discuss their compensation. The trip is quick enough that it doesn’t raise any eyebrows, it’s usually outside of the building, and you can walk, talk and mainline caffeine all at the same time.

“Evil Incarnate got the axe.” Mr. Burrito breathed. He was a little too happy; I  didn’t blame him.

“What?!” I was genuinely surprised. She was terrible but it appeared to an inexperienced outsider that she was pretty decent at managing the politics of the banking world. How wrong I was.

“Yep. And that’s not all. She spent the WHOLE DAY on the floor, saying her good-byes. Who does that?” It was odd indeed. Generally, when employees at investment banks are let go, they are usually escorted from the building quickly so as 1) not to cause a ruckus, and 2) so they don’t steal anything. “Plus, you should have seen the look she gave Apathetic Associate when she left. He went to say good-bye, and she literally avoided eye contact, turned on her heels, and walked away.” Nice to know that having lunch with someone every day for two years gets you that kind of treatment. “That’s not all…” he waited for my reaction. “Smelly homeless kid got relocated to another group. No more air fresheners!” How the tables had turned. I had known for some time that the Evil Incarnate and SHK had been in cahoots, but thankfully, they were on the wrong side of layoffs line.

“Wait. Am I getting fired?” I stopped reveling for a quick second. They couldn’t get to me on Friday because I wasn’t there. Mr. Burrito shook his head and mentioned casually that he thought/knew layoffs for our group were done. We walked back with a little more bounce in our step. As we returned to our desks, we settled in to finally do some work that started to creep up.

Sometime in the afternoon, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hi FF. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Wasp MD stood there, with a small smile on his face. He had a cheery disposition and was always friendly. I was too busy searching for any sign that he was hiding a proverbial axe under his bespoke suit. We headed into an empty office on the floor; I was certain that the end was near. “So..you may have heard that SHK was relocated…and I wanted to assure you that you’re going to stay in this group. The head of our division had asked me to choose so I chose you. I just wanted to let you know so you didn’t freak out.” I could have hugged him. He turned out to  be a great mentor and friend through the last few years, but it was nice to see someone “going to bat” for me during my early tenure as a junior analyst.

Over the next few weeks, I watched as my friends bled out slowly. Many analysts were let go with decent severance packages and partial bonuses as we were paid on the year ending 6/30. Either way, my group now consisted of: Wasp MD, Hot VP, Allied Associate (said family friend from earlier), Apathetic Associate, Douchebag Associate, Mr. Burrito, me, and two other analysts (the Mormon, a 1st year, and Outcast, a 2nd year analyst).

At this point, my work had picked up greatly and I was staffed with Douchebag Associate on “Project Sell-the-Dream”, a renewable energy development company with a lot of ideas but little substance. For some reason, we had been pulled into the M&A aspect of the transaction. After that experience, I knew that I never ever wanted to do M&A banking ever again.

Since August, I’ve been cooking up a bunch of things. Namely, this fashionable financier(e) has luckily gotten into business school! Between essay writing, stressing/crying, and the loads of actual work I’ve been doing, many things took a back seat (including the fact that I haven’t been to the gym in about 2 months; don’t worry – I haven’t become a jabba-the-hut mess yet).

Let me re-organize these blog posts, put them into a coherent story with a new host, and hopefully, there’ll be a proper continuous story that everyone can read. I expect to have some time, especially when I leave my current job in private equity, which coincidentally I love. Everyone automatically assumes that when I say I’m going to b-school, it’s because I hate my job/industry/etc. Over the past few months though, I’ve realized that I really do like my firm (despite the ups and downs), I love the people, and I like the sector. But, I feel like I need to receive a more formal education in bi’ness and also broaden my horizon. There are a bunch of things that I’ve always wanted to dabble in and now’s the chance to explore.

It means a great deal to me that some of you still read this – I truly appreciate it.

Here’s to a new and happy 2012!

To my 6 active subscribers – i am still here and alive. I’m also still employed (yay me). Interestingly enough, the market is not *that* much better than when I started blogging 2 years back. A bit of a hamster wheel, it feels like..

Hope everyone is doing well!

“Oh, god. It’s really bad today.” Mr. Burrito muttered. Smelly Homeless Kid breezed by our desk on his way to grab lunch. I shook my head. Being cast off from the rest of the group was bad enough. Having to deal with a grown man’s hygienic issues was another ballgame. For some reason, SHK’s body odor was particularly foul the past few days. Sitting along a trader’s desk in close proximity did not help the situation. It was that day in which Mr. Burrito and I vowed to fix the problem. Taking our usual route to lunch, we stopped off at the nearest drugstore. We went in and came out with the only remedy to our problem: a Glade, Clean Linen, plug-in air freshener. At the time, the idea seemed as good as any. Sure, it was childish, but we ran out of options. How do you even begin to have that conversation with a superior? Returning with some pizza, Mr. Burrito and I set to work on our covert operation. SHK’s desk was just messy enough with various folders and large binders to accommodate the plan. Shifting away a few items, we looked around and quickly plugged in our saving grace. Quickly moving a pencil holder, a stapler and one of those wiry-things that held multiple folders in front of it, we settled back into our Herman Miller chairs and quietly ate our lunch. Evil Incarnate’s feminine laugh rang out down the hall as she returned with Apathetic Associate and SHK in tow from lunch. I focused my eyes on the screen in front of me and tried hard not to laugh as SHK sat down. No reaction in any way: either his nose was not functional or the scent of his own nastiness settled as a constant cloud over his being.

Finally, the e-mail I was waiting for had popped up. The SVP who had jumped ship responded to my inquiry. I picked up my cell phone and wandered down the rows to the far side of the massive trading floor, ducking into a corner conference room, which was tucked out of sight.

“Hey, SVP. It’s Fashion Financier. Is now a good time?” He picked up after the first ring. After exchanging pleasantries, I got down to the point. “So, listen. I wanted to get your advice. Do you think it’s a good idea to look for other opportunities?” I asked in one full breath, somewhat nervous. Just because he moved to another group and another building didn’t mean he didn’t have ties to some of the others in my group.

“Absolutely. Look, the way I see it…this place is heading towards major trouble. If you have another opportunity lined up, you should take it. Seriously. Get the fuck out.” SVP advised, almost quietly. Well, that was that. I thanked him for his help and left the empty conference room with a ninja-type of stealth. You know that scene in Titanic, where old Rose does the voice-over and says “That’s the last time Titanic ever saw daylight again.” This felt like that exact moment. I would never talk to SVP again after that conversation. Returning to my desk, I sent out an e-mail from my alumni account to Confidante regarding introductions to head hunters and anyone else she found to be useful She responded automatically, sensing my urgency. A few months earlier when we spoke, she was insistent that our firm would never lay off analysts. Having seen a few of her own get picked off in the process, she was ready and willing to help me with my new job hunt. As people began to leave for the weekend, I simply nodded good-bye as I alt-tabbed back and forth between a ‘model’ that I was ‘learning’ and my draft cover letters to headhunters. Given the slow nature of the current deal environment, my group head had allowed me to take off the following Monday as I was headed back to the Ivy for one of those big Spring weekends.

The news that awaited me on Tuesday was earth shattering to say the least.

A few updates:
1) Yes, I’m still employed. In Finance. Private equity, to be exact. We’re getting to that part of the story and I’m working on a new post now. I will probably skip forward a bit so at least the blog will match where I am in life right now.

2) I have not updated simply because I have been work busy since circa September 2009. True story: I remember the day it happened. The day in which my life took a turn to busy town.

3) Private equity and hedge fund bonuses have not fallen off a cliff. They are alive and well. Investment banking bonuses, on the other hand…

4) I have agreed to do some guest blogging over at Wall Street Oasis. In an effort not to duplicate posts, I am going to try to link up that blog with this one. I have not decided on the content for WSO yet. I have a great time writing my story and would love to get a larger audience. However, seeing as how I am delinquent with blogging, that may not be the greatest idea.

Thoughts, suggestions, comments are welcome. What would you guys like to hear about?

We had been informed by the division head that we’d be moving to join a structured product group. We would subsequently move from the cocoon of anonymity, cubicles and offices to a wide open trading floor, where at any given moment, the global head of the division would be able to walk down the throw, peer over you shoulder, and ask you random questions relating to your work. The head of our particular division was particularly unnerving. His gait was often slow and deliberate down the long row of trading desks down to his office even though his gaze was intense and penetrating. He was somewhat of a legend amongst the floor: hired as a post-MBA associate under one of the oldest MDs on the floor, burned through various analysts who worked under him, and climbed the corporate ladder to division head (at which point, said hiring MD was his minion). While the division head maintained his desk on the floor, he spent most of his type in one of the glass offices which gave him access to a full, panoramic view of the floor.

The group that we had joined was one that we’d work closely with in the past. By sheer randomness, the associate in that group happened to be a close family friend of my Godparents. We immediately hit it off and it occurred to me that she would be an important ally (my gut reaction was, in fact, correct). As there was not enough space in the immediate row for the new analysts (moi, Mr. Burrito and Smelly Homeless Kid), we were cast around the corner to a desk that could only be described as the jewish-quant desk. Apparently, in order to work in *that* group, one needed to be a serious jew (yarmulkes) AND a serious quant (phd).

At this point (circa March/April 2008), we had entered what seemed to be the second or third of an indefinite round of layoffs. I had watched as the multitude of analysts from my class had gotten the axe and waited with bated breath for my turn. Timing is everything.

I started my blog because I wanted to tell my story and I needed a creative outlet that was more satisfying than picking bar graph colors on Powerpoint. I also wanted to fool myself into thinking that living in a city that is not “The City” wasn’t so bad. Sure, being a female analyst at an investment bank (and subsequently a private equity shop) isn’t really that earth shattering or unique these days. And yeah, the subject matter has come up again and again in both satirical and realist forms. All from a male perspective.

I had thought that by taking this subject of finance, one part cynicism, two parts bitchiness, and a dash of wit, and blending it all up would make for an interesting read. To some extent, I think it has. I have failed miserably in maintaining my blog and I apologize. I hope this hasn’t fallen too far down into the abyss and that I can save some of the wreckage.

Of course, this post has a purpose. Throughout the last few years, there have been so many ‘creative’ ways about going to get a finance job. Let’s face it: desperate times call for desperate measures and smart kids do dumb things. Unfortunately with the prevalence and omnipotence of the internet, there is no hiding. And, since it seems like we are in the midst of recruiting for those coveted summer analyst/associate positions, I thought it’d be helpful to aggregate some examples of what you should NOT do. A few examples come to mind:

Aleksey “Impossible is Nothing” Vayner:
Ah, good ol’ Aleksey Vayner. In my recollection, this is the first major application disaster that tore through all the investment banks. Aleksey, in his desperation to ‘stand out’ and have a leg up on his fellow Yalies, decided to put together a video resume detailing outlandish accomplishments and personal attributes. While potentially an interesting (and definitely creative) way to distinguish himself, the backlash was incredible. Within hours upon his submission to an investment bank, his creation became the biggest mockery of resume dropping in the history of banks. If you google his name today, Wikipedia, Dealbook (NY Times), Dealbreaker, Gawker, etc. all have something to say regarding the subject.

In short: please don’t send a video resume. Unless you want a floor full of bankers/traders/admins peeing themselves from laughter.

Jeffrey Chiang
This winner is a newcomer into the scene. Even with all the tales of recruiting mishaps in the past, this UT-Austin ’09 managed to still royally fuck it up. Even having moved to the buyside, I managed to get this e-mail chain from 3 different people at 3 different banks/buy-side shops. While I feel for the kid, it’s not exactly helpful to become the premier definition of the word “idiot” when recruiting season is in full-swing.

Morals of this Story: E-mail leaves a paper trail (which inevitably, some douchebag will forward). Don’t lie on your resume. Wall Street is a small place and is now even smaller given 1) all the recent layoffs and bank collapses/mergers and 2) the obsessive use of e-mail and blackberries.

Mark Nazal
So you’re chugging along at a target school, participating in recruiting season with every other red-blooded male and female on campus (except those granola eating hippie freaks, who, btw, ultimately realize they want to make money a few years down the line and go to b-school). You realize that your GPA isn’t that great, your English skills even worse, and you probably have no shot in hell. Thus, the best option to apply to one of those ‘global’ banks with headquarters outside of the U.S. And, to make sure that you’ve kicked it up ANOTHER NOTCH (- use emeril voice -), you will create a website: “RBC Should Hire Me“. Unfortunately, the website has since been taken down, but those little “cached’ links still provide a modicum of fun.

Punchline: Keep those ethereal, bubbly feelings out of recruiting. Banks want to hire some mercenaries, not some kid who acts like a 7th grade girl professing her love for the popular boy at school.

Random UF Student
This is a toughie and way too much commentary to lay on. Dealbreaker does a fantastic job of presenting on this one. Basically, the bottom line is this: If you bring nothing to the table except a stellar GPA and lines out of a Lifetime movie, you probably shouldn’t be in banking, finance, or any job outside of the mall.

And as always, there are a few sympathizers out there who will comment about how mean/cruel it is to expose these kids, and blah blah blah. Save it. What’s done is done and I’m merely the messenger. I realize that 10 years ago, even if shit like this happened, it would be close to impossible to circulate said blunders with such force and reach. We live in an interesting and very well-connected society whether we like it or not.

The bonus backlash (aka populist outrage) has been in full swing during the past few weeks. It is perpetually fueled by reports and articles in the New York Times, Bloomberg, CNBC, etc. I even heard Howard Stern commenting on it the other day. To top it all off, the mafioso families of Wall Street were dragged to DC for another round of berating and accusations in front of Congress. I can safely say that Jamie Dimon is my new hero with his piercing blue eyes, wind swept silver locks, and steely demeanor. Blankfein gives a good stink face but Dimon’s bored and “you’re all idiots” demeanor takes the cake.

I found this article by Steven Pearlstein (chief business/economy writer for the Washington Post) pretty straightforward and enlightening. Also pretty gutsy for a paper based out of DC. The article pretty much states the obvious in a very simplistic manner so as to spell it out for the Main Streeters.