The Black Maggot

On our spot monkey night out last week we were honing fvj's spoof-playing skills (believe me, they need honing) and then introduced him to par-100, which he was actually quite good at.

These games of course need forfeits for the losers of each round, and as a particularly stiff deterrent for losing on purpose we often play for shots of the local stomach-cleanser, Killepitsch. Noticing that the generous shot glasses were a little under-filled, and since it's the last time I'll be playing such ridiculous drinking games for a very long time, I ordered something else from the top shelf to add a little twist to proceedings.

I feel fairly confident that the resulting "shocktail", being a shot of Killepitsch plus a dash of Creme de Menthe plus a splash of Strongbow cider, is unique. Or at the very least, not widely partaken of. Therefore, being Christmas and all, I have decided to christen this little beauty "The Black Maggot." This is a nod to the dark hue, the revulsion felt when considering putting one near one's mouth, and the unsettling, wriggly sensation that something is trying to crawl out of one's bowels for 24 hours after consumption. I would advise approaching with caution...

Taking Stock

Well that was the week that was. I'll wager (if betting hasn't been outlawed) that there are more than a couple of traders sitting over a quiet cup of coffee this morning just staring into space, vacant and shell-shocked, looking out of the window (the first time in 5 days they haven't been focussed on images 18 inches in front of their face), muttering inaudible, mono-syllabic answers to their loved ones...

Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, sorry... where was I. Well, it was clear that there was 'something up' all week. I don't mean the amphetamine-fuelled price action - we've had that before (Sterling's ERM exit, Asia crisis, LTCM and Enron collapses, 9/11, 7/7) and we'll have it again. Nor do I mean the barrage of sensationalist reporting - if I have to read the adjective "unprecedented" or the phrase "uncharted territory" in one more piece of analysis, I'll.. errm.. stop reading financial markets analysis. No, it was in the conversations. Let me explain.

Your average spot monkey is a seat-of-the-pants type chap or chappess. He is not fabled for intelligence. He is known for reacting fast, obliterating wrong prices and making crude non-PC jokes in the process. He thinks that a "liquidity crisis" is when they have run out of Laurent-Perrier Rose at the Brasserie Roque. He thinks "credit crunch" is a breakfast cereal. He thinks an "Investment Banking Model" is the latest, tasty intern hiring at Goldman Sachs. The fact that I have spent a week discussing the real meaning of these terms with monkeys all over the world is the clearest barometric indication that we were sailing remarkably close to the wind.

Like some terrifying fair-ground attraction, it was palm-sweatingly scary, and yet all rather exciting at the same time. Of course it was also another valuable learning experience.

Trywalker learnt what it is like to live, and trade through a genuine financial crisis. And he started to realise why the cornerstone of any market is 'liquidity' - you only fully realise this when it is absent. This will stand him in good stead.

FVJ learnt the meaning of the word "arbitrage" (more on that another time). Then he learnt the meaning of the word "wrath", after I foolishly gave him the responsibility of taking profit on a 2-year Gold forward position (it's so far in the money, surely he can't f### that up, I thought to myself). Finally he learnt about "near-death experiences" after he sloppily sent an order that had actually already been filled. UDH Boy was up all night trying to extricate us from that particular hole (there are a few things harder to get out of during Asian hours than 25mio USD/HUF, but not many), and will probably see the funny side of it in a year or so.

Us older hands learnt, or were rudely reminded perhaps, that complacency and disaster are never really far apart...


P.S. I do hope that Patsou held onto her GS & Citi stock, which rallied 20+% yesterday. It's a lovely necklace and would be a shame to have to hock it! ;-)

Training Trainee Traders

The problem with graduates is that by the time they come within 10ft of a trading desk, they have invariably had the worst preparation possible. Sure, they may have brains the size of Andorra, a collection of economics degrees, 47 A levels, speak 12 languages and been chairman of the Uni debating club. But this is all part of the problem...

By their early 20s they have simply gotten used to being brilliant at everything. They pass every exam, they make every team, they get all the girls. Everyone they have ever met - family, friends, teachers, team-mates, career advisors - has told them over and over again how brilliant and special they are. They envisage trading in the financial markets as the next box to tick. After all, how hard can it be, it's just a bunch of numbers, right?

"Give me some trading limits on day 1 and by month end I will be the new George Soros." When you do actually give them trading limits, and take great pains to explain that they are expected to lose money at first (unless they actually ARE the next George Soros), they usually sort of guffaw, and you can read the quiet "ha-ha.. I'll show this old fuddy-duddy!" thoughts that flash across their faces. Humility is in short supply.

In light of this it becomes terribly, terribly difficult for them to admit it when they have made a mistake. No matter if the error is small (who spilt coffee on the keyboard?), medium (who just told our best customer to call DeutscheBank for a price?), or relatively gargantuan (who just bought 2 tonnes of Platinum instead of selling 2,000 ounces of Silver?). They either pretend they had nothing to do with it, or if evidence is incontrovertible, they try to bore you to tears with a verbose catalogue of mitigating circumstances, while explaining that the problem was actually the result of a communication / system / procedure / training / management-directive error...

Rare moment in which a trainee trader tells it like it is...

(thanks again for the pic, Trywalker ;-) )

Fan Aerodynamics

A guest post this morning - as requested, UDH Boy has prepared his version of the FVJ fan debacle. Apparently formal training as an Aeronautical Engineer may prove useful if one is attempting to invent a dragless wing, but is patently worthless for any practical purpose...

"Naturally, there has to be a knock on effect from the profligate spending that the Bank has carried out whilst building a Bluetooth Headset stockpile to rival that of the Carphone Warehouse.

It would seem that the dealing room air conditioning maintenance budget has become the Yin to the headset accumulation Yang, and as the aircon has ground to a halt we have seen temperatures climbing rapidly. Conditions became positively tropical a week or two ago when the outdoor temperatures hit 30+, and so I was delighted when Trywalker decided upon his own initiative to go out and purchase a team fan, for placing on the desk between us.

Trywalker returned a short time later wielding what appeared to be a splendid example of a desktop fan, and he and FVJ set about "installing" the equipment. I noticed a small flurry of activity behind me involving said fan and various tutting noises but, trusting Trywalker, my star trader, to be able to override or at least circumnavigate the complete lack of sense (of the common, rare or in fact any variety) present in FVJ, I left the two of them to it and looked forward to enjoying the cooling effects of the fan sometime shortly thereafter.

Now, things got a little busy for the next couple of hours, evidenced by me, well, UDH'ing away and Trywalker using copious amounts of the trading force. Suddenly, during a break from our battles against the rest of the market, I noticed the temperature was continuing to ratchet higher and the keenly-awaited cooling desktop team fan was, in fact, not on the space where Trywalkers' desk and mine adjoin, as had been planned. Remembering the age old saying "There is no I in 'team'", I stole a quick glance at SB's desk, to ensure there was not a bit of"I think I shall have that fan" action going on, but mercifully SB was in his customary position whilst making fast aggressive prices and keenly fighting the FX markets - asleep at his (fanless) desk.

"Where's that dastardly fan?" I enquired of FVJ (or words to that effect).

"Ah. Uh. THAT fan? " Responded FVJ, in his inimitable 'it definitely wasn't MY fault' voice. I clarified that it was indeed the only desktop fan within 100 metres of our location (the one lying on its side on the desk directly next to FVJ) to which I was referring.

"Broken" sniffed FVJ, keeping his replies notably shorter than when he doesn't think he's ballsed up. [NB. Ask this chap a blameless, open or opinion related question and watch him talk for hours (you watch but don't listen because the bullsh+t deflector ear protectors start working after Dr Ramblers' previously discussed bullsh+t radar has spotted the incoming missiles after around ten seconds). Ask him "what did you do to my " and you get monosylabillic grunts until you go away.] I maintained a baleful glare for long enough for FVJ to ascertain that this time, he was going to have to elaborate just a bit more.

"Wellyouseeitwasn'tworkingwhenweunpackeditandIpluggeditinandthetimerwasclicking but thefanwasnotworkingsoItookitapartandthewiringwaswrongsoItookitbacktotheshopand...." I stopped the breathless diatribe with another 'friendly' stare and before FVJ could get a trademark "but, but, but" response out of his mouth, stepped over to investigate said fan, which upon closer inspection was in several more pieces than is normally expected, with underbase wiring exposed and the base / stem assembly very much disconnected.

"So, ***** (for once I called him by name not expletive here actually, but as our Holey Whale Hunter has deemed names need to be withheld to protect the incompetent he gets 5 stars here, for probably the first and last time in his life) you unpacked the fan, plugged it in, found it was not working, took it apart, ascertained the wiring was wrong, then took it back to the shop, brought the replacement here and have subsequently, I am guessing, found that the exact same wiring fault exists?"

"Exactly!" he replied triumphantly.

"And you deem that the timer is getting power because it is clicking, and that the incoming wiring only feeds the timer switch and not the fan?"

"That's RIGHT!" he almost yelps with glee at realising that I am on his side about this darn faulty fan after all.

"*****, I know you are an aeronautical engineer by qualification, and I never even went to Uni so I probably have no place to question this... but did you ever consider whilst dismantling two fans and finding this same 'fault' that the electrical socket you are using to test it could be the faulty item?"

The blank incoming look that followed is something I have become accustomed to with FVJ, although this time it was mercifully silent and didn't include the normally omnipresent accompniment of "well, yeah I KNEW that already...".

"Err well, no it cannot be the socket, because the timer is definitely getting power".

"On what are you basing that assumption" I ask, knowing and dreading the answer...."Well, it clicks when you turn the dial".

"Have you ever heard of wind up timing devices?" I ask.

The penny drops, with the kind of resounding clang that only occurs when coins are allowed to fall inside huge vacant spaces.

"Weeeeell, it doesn't LOOK like a wind up timer." comes the initial response, although even FVJ has to realise where this line of defence is going.

"Try this other socket here" I suggest, indicating one which we knew worked.

FVJ proceeded to start removing the chest of desk drawers and clambering beneath the desk before I swatted him around the ears and explained we could test the fan in the socket BEFORE we spent five minutes neatly tucking the wiring underneath the desktops...Lo and behold the fan's complicated faulty wiring issues were fixed by taking the radical last chance step of plugging it into a functional electrical socket. The fate of the dismantled "faulty" fan that went back to the shop is as yet unknown, although it is likely to have been "fixed" somewhat quicker than ours.

Needless to say, I think for the safety of aviators and air travellers everywhere its probably good that this particular Aeronautical Engineer has headed into the banking industry at the moment. My loss is probably a lot of peoples safety gained."

Thanks UDH Boy. Hurry back.

Monday Shocker!

Horror! Disaster strikes! Not even FVJ quoting EUR/HKD 8 big figures off-market (I may return one of his kidneys on Friday if he manages not to screw up the rest of the week) could cause me greater consternation than seeing (the town of my birth) Weston-Super-Mare's glorious old pier burnt to a crisp.

TB is convinced it must have been an insurance job ("how do you burn something down that's in the water"...sorry, he's from Oz) but I'm not so sure. It's a well know arson fact that the perps like to watch their own conflagatory handiwork. I have no direct evidence, and the motives can only be guessed at but there is just something about the individual in this photo that reeks of malicious intent.

I urge the Weston-Super-Mare police to cover their asses and leave no stone unturned in their investigations