Time was, entertaining a client on Wall Street was a relatively straightforward affair. Invite them to dinner at a steakhouse, maybe hit up some kind of sporting event, round out the night at a strip club. It was a simpler time, of simpler tastes. In the last number of years, though, things have changed. Most people would prefer to hit up a spinning class rather than spend upwards of 5 or 6 hours in the presence of some insufferable sales guy, and when they do want to involve scantily-clad entertainment? Candy on Stage 5 no longer cuts it. Read more »
hedge fund managers
Wall Street Tired Of Stripping, Pole Dancing, Moving Toward More Highbrow Pursuits (Public Urination, Etc.)By Bess Levin
As you may have heard, starting October 10, Carl Icahn sold 2.99 million shares of Netflix. His son Brett, who works for the old man, thought this was a mistake. So that no one felt like their voice wasn’t being heard, a filing disclosing the sale included statements by both parties, “exposing [the] disagreement” between Senior and Junior. Brett’s lays out his investment thesis. Carl’s, which reads like he addressed it to Brett and then changed it to “Dear SEC”, is essentially:
“Listen up, Sonny Boy. I know you think you’ve learned a thing or two and that’s great. But step aside, Big Daddy’s got money to make.” Read more »
Embattled hedge-fund billionaire Steven A. Cohen, whose SAC Capital Advisors is charged with insider trading, paid spiky-haired chef Guy Fieri $100,000 “to be his friend for a day,” a new book reveals. Cohen paid Fieri to drive around Connecticut with him to reenact a fantasy episode of “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives,” reveals Allen Salkin in his book, “From Scratch: Inside the Food Network.” But after “Cohen paid Guy Fieri $100,000 to be his friend for a day,” Salkin writes the odd couple became so close that the chef’s top-rated show even featured Cohen’s favorite hot-dog spot, the (perhaps appropriately titled) Super Duper Weenie. – NYP, October 21, 2013
October 3, 2011
The place: Steve Cohen’s Greenwich, Connecticut mansion. The time: Saturday afternoon. The mood: Freaked out.
“Breathe, Steve, breathe.”
“Everything is going to be fine.”
“Who wouldn’t love you?”
“Boss, I’ve spoken with his assistant, and have been assured that he is extremely excited.”
Steve said nothing but continued rocking back and forth in the fetal position on foyer floor, where he’d been since late morning. The words of his wife, general counsel, and president had done nothing to comfort him, nor did the awkward pats on the shoulder offered by his chief financial officer.
“Honey, at least eat something, please,” Alex implored. That he was nervous about what someone thought of him was concerning enough but the fact that her husband had barely touched his breakfast was officially scaring Mrs. C.
“How about a some toast?” SAC Chief Financial Officer Dan Berkowitz asked. “Just a little bite?” he suggested gently, moving the bread toward Cohen’s lips like an airplane. Normally Berkowitz would never have dared to get that close, but these were unusual circumstances.
Cohen pushed the toast away.
“Come on,” Berkowitz tried again. “Just a little taste, just for us.”
Cohen pushed the toast away harder.
“Steve, really, it’s going to be okay,” Alex told him.
“Easy for you to say!” Cohen shouted, suddenly snapping up off the floor.
“Honestly, boss what are you worried about?” SAC President Tom Conheeney asked. “You’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Yeah, I know, and now I’m sick to my stomach about it!” Cohen shared in an uncharacteristic flash of vulnerability. It was a side of Cohen no one had ever seen before– needy, panicky, plagued with self-doubt– and it was extremely unnerving.
“What if this whole thing was a mistake? What if he doesn’t like me? What if it takes away some of the mystique of the show? What if I get in that car and I can’t think of one thing to say? What if–”
Steve had many more what-if scenarios to share but before he could finish, he was interrupted by the blare of a novelty car-horn. Everyone in the room froze. A look of terror flashed across Steve’s face. The silence was broken only by Cohen’s housekeeper, whose name he could never remember, who he’d tasked earlier that morning with taking the first shift at the window.
“Mr. Cohen!” she shouted. “He’s here.”
November 2007, SAC trading floor. Read more »
Hedge-fund group SAC Capital Advisors LP and federal prosecutors have agreed in principle on a penalty exceeding $1 billion in a potential criminal settlement that would be the largest ever for an insider-trading case, according to people familiar with the matter. The payment by SAC, run by star manager Steven A. Cohen, is expected to be roughly $1.2 billion to $1.4 billion, according to these people. The penalty means SAC would pay the U.S. government a total of nearly $2 billion, including a $616 million penalty the firm agreed to in a civil insider-trading settlement with the Securities and Exchange Commission in March…Prosecutors are working with the SEC in negotiations with SAC over how long the firm and Mr. Cohen would potentially refrain from managing outside capital. Mr. Cohen has agreed with prosecutors to sit out for a period of time, according to the people familiar with the matter. [WSJ]
After months of fighting the government’s insider trading case tooth and nail, the hedge fund SAC Capital Advisors is leaning toward admitting criminal wrongdoing and agreeing to pay a record financial penalty to resolve the charges, according to two people briefed on the deliberations…In agreeing to have SAC plead guilty and pay the hefty fine, SAC’s owner, Steven A. Cohen, would be seeking to put his legal woes behind him in the hopes of salvaging his business. Once he resolved the government’s case, Mr. Cohen would look to transform SAC into a “family office” that would manage Mr. Cohen’s own wealth. [Dealbook, earlier]