Anyone who tells you that working on Wall Street is an awesome gig is a flat out liar. Wall Street is filled with overambitious, sycophantic political assholes. You have no true friends. The people you hang out with after work, at office parties, in the Caf or sometimes even on the weekends are just stepping stones. You do not take anyone seriously...unless you can sweep them out of your way while you are on a networking binge.
It’s in this environment I found myself after graduating from college. I was given the opportunity to become a management analyst in a training program with one of the world’s largest investment banks. Yeah it sounds cool, but it wasn’t. Aside from the fact that it involved the unglamorous side of banking, it seemed to me that this program was just a stable of young, nubile grads for senior management to pay with. Sounds kind of freaky, eh? Let’s see – I’ve seen women get it on in the bathrooms, men coming onto each other in the middle of meetings, young interns forced to perform tasks that they could never put on their resume... Hey, you think Enron or WorldCom was bad? Add sex and legalized prostitution on top of swindling money and you’ve got my world.
The bottom line is that in order for a young, junior executive to make a name for herself (or himself) she has to play the game. Just suck it up (ha!) and try to enjoy yourself. That’s what I did. I found a way to move up in the bank and get raises and bonuses while people were getting laid off. I went from an analyst to an Asst. Vice President in three years. Now I’m a junior Relationship Manager, posed to obtain my own book of business. However, for the last three months, I have been supporting the top dog of the sales group. He’s the senior RM. He calls the shots. He views himself as my mentor, my teacher, my political champion within the bank. He also wants a bit more than I’m willing to give him. I thought I was done playing that game. Alas, I was so very wrong. My name is Veronica and here’s my story...
The first few weeks were hell. Jonathan has been on my case about everything. My quarterly revenue report was incorrect; I wasn’t keeping the sales pipeline up to date, blah blah blah. Now I’ve noticed he’s started to look at my legs and ass, not straight at my face. Lately, especially on our way to client calls, he tries to brush up against me whenever possible (albeit in an “innocent” way). We’ll be on the subway and the train lurches...he brushes my breast. We sit next to each other in a meeting and his leg touches mine, or his hand “ever so slightly” touches my leg. The frightening thing is...it gives me that warm feeling down you know where.
I was thinking about this late one May evening while I was still in the office. I was about to leave my cubicle to go home when I heard a muted sound. I turned...It was coming from the corner office. “Hhmm...” I wondered as I slowly walked toward the big Managing Director’s office. The dude who occupies this office is forever traveling, except for then. The closer I got to the door I heard another moan – distinctly female. All the offices on my floor have doors and windows facing outside the building. The also have windows with blinds facing the office floor. Luckily, that night, the blinds were not all the way closed. I crept underneath the window and peeked in. “Oh my God!” I thought
