As has been previously mentioned, while there is much to get excited about at the new Goldman Sachs building (a panorama that includes New York Harbor, the Sky Lobby cafeteria offers “a deep panini lineup and deadly cupcakes,” safe rooms on every floor), there is something that many GS employees are not enthused about at all. And that’s seeing each others’ asses, etc, in the company steam room. Today we have yet another complaint from the inside, again related to an aversion to being grossed out by each others’ bodies. An anonymous Mistress of the Universe writes: Continue reading »
steam rooms
He hasn’t been ready to talk about it until now but yes, you should know, April 16th was the day Lloyd saw Viniar for the first time in the new steam room during an AM soak. All innocence lost. Not even the on-site cupcakes could console him. And the day got only worse. Here’s what he has to say about that. Continue reading »
Over the weekend, the Wall Street Journal outed trader David Slaine as one of the cooperating sources in the Galleon case (although when reached at home and confronted about his role in the ring, Slaine told reporters “you’ve got the wrong guy”). Big D was first approached by the FBI in 2007, when authorities came to him with evidence he’d traded on inside info. Hoping to save himself, Slaine told prosecutors that his friend, Craig Drimal, was part of an “insider-trading conspiracy involving a wide ring of other hedge-fund managers and lawyers.” Obviously, throwing one’s colleague under the bus is no easy thing to do, especially when the guy also happens to be one of your close friends. Drimal and Slaine go way back– they were not just buds, but weight-lifting partners, too, which is probably the tightest bond of all (the two originally met during Slaine’s clubbing days, when Drimal was a bouncer at Vertical and “quickly formed a friendship based on a shared passion for weight lifting and their mutual ability to bench-press 400 pounds”). They were so close, in fact, that soon after taking a gig with Galleon, Big D convinced his bosses to give Drimal– then working as a bouncer at the Roxy– a job as an assistant at the firm. But along the way something must have happened. A confrontation. A blow-up. Something dark, at the gym, involving spotting, for Slaine to rat his special friend out like this. One thing I can tell you about Slaine is that he wouldn’t have done it unless provoked. Like the time at Morgan Stanley, in the nineties, with the French Fries.
In 1993, Slaine triggered a fist-fight with a colleague on the trading floor after needling him because he wouldn’t share his french fries. Others broke up the fight.
You just can’t do that, okay? You can’t not share your fries and expect the Slaine-ster to just sit back and take it, no you cannot. Similarly, you can’t expect to confront Slaine about his unsatisfactory performance and think you’re not going to get your teeth knocked out by a sweaty, glistening, stark-naked Big D.
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