I work as a retail stock broker in a California branch of a substantial wirehouse (Like Smith Barney but not Smith Barney). A few years ago, I worked along side a 6 foot +++ 240 pound +++ broker, of American Indian decent. I think his name was Frank but it really doesn't matter because we all called him " The Chief ".
The chief was not very successful as brokers were measured back then ...By the amount of revenue they produced.
The Chief was big and quiet with eyes that told you there was a lot going on inside his head that you would never learn about. He was originally from the Midwest and moved to California to escape a bad marriage.
He and I were not close but not distant either. Sort of collegial in an unprofessional sort of way.
So I was not the first to hear that Chief had a problem with alcohol. He became a binge drinker who reached the point of incapacitation and stayed there for days at a time.
This did not help him build his business.
There came a time when those who were close to him, got him to check into Betty Ford.
He would come out and stay sober for days or even weeks at a time but eventually, he would find his way back.
After a few iterations of this cycle, he came back to find that he no longer had a job and his clients, who were being tended by his broker friends during his many absences, were permanently reassigned .
The chief was very pissed off at the manager for taking this action and he yearned for a way to get even.
I advise you, if you ever run into The Chief, make an effort to stay on his good side.
He is a formidable adversary, drunk or sober.
You see, the manager Bill Farky (ficticious) ran a daily newsletter which he published to the brokers and staff of his branch. The name of the letter was not Farky's Malarky but it would have been if his name was Farky.
As best I could tell, the main purpose of this letter was to get the brokers to feel insecure about their level of production by touting the achievements of the more successful brokers. But of course, to encourage readership, it contained some editorial content.
The vast majority of the time, this was pure pablum... A sickening gruel of reworked aphorisms whose main attraction was to argue about their "gag" rating on a scale of 1-10. I never saw anything less than a 7.
However, for some reason that may never be known, one fateful morning, Bill Farky wrote something original.
It seems, Bill was angry over the seeming contradiction between what a CFO had said in some press release and the eventual earning disappointment that followed days later when his company issued their quarterly earnings. Either Farky lost money or one of his big clients did cuz he was hot.
He accused the CFO of telling untruths. Actually, he called him a
liar. In print.
Well, no one thought much of it at the time but the Chief must have saved a copy of that newsletter and when he was canned, in a fit of Indian revenge worthy of his most savage forefathers, he sent the document to the CFO.
Well, my more experienced corporate readers know the end of this story just like a great bowler can anticipate a strike on basis of the delivery of the ball.
The CFO was not amused to receive a copy of a newsletter from his investment bankers' firm calling him a liar. He forwarded it to the CEO of our firm who was not amused either. He passed it along to the President of Private Wealth Management, who then shoved it far up the ass of the National Sales manager who I am sure had a most reasonable conversation with poor Farky about his judgment. I wish I could give you more color. I would pay good money to have heard it but I will have to leave it to your imagination.
Farky is now a broker at my firm and we have a new manager. He does not use newsletters. He will not even open his mouth in front of witnesses.
And what happened to The Chief? I don't know and now that I have written this piece, I don't want to find out.
