Wall Street Warriors, Episode 5: Postmortem

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Clairvoyance can be all fun and games but lest we run wild with our powers (“I knew you were going to say that!”), it’s important to remember that it often comes at a cost. During last week’s fireside chat per Episode 4, I wondered aloud, “How the producers are going to keep you and I hooked for the rest of the season after shooting their wad on this one, I have no idea but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Friends—that bridge is upon us. Episode five—what can I say? It was okay; but it doesn’t hold a candle to episode four. Godfather I versus III, if you catch my drift. (Or Douglas as Gordon Gekko versus Douglas as Steve Tobias, if you’re more comfortable with that analogy and I have a hunch many of you are). Watched E4 on Sunday, as usual, and have been sitting on this run-down ever since. Do it? Don’t do it? Five little words—one ghastly dilemma. I put off dealing with it for a while—as people who embrace the ‘ignore the problem and it’ll go away’ tactic are wont to do—but something from deep inside has been saying “Do episode 5, Bess. Do it now,” since I woke up this morning (but conceivably that could be last night’s bad Chinese talking). Despite its suspicious provenance, despite—nay, because of—the questionable spring rolls, I've decided, "I WILL do this, and now." Also, because Tim Sykes says, “I feel it’s my duty to be the Godfather of throwing parties.”


Timmy is not having a good day. He’s only made “20 bucks” this morning, a paltry sum compared to his best trading day ever, which clocked in at $350,000. Sykesie’s not too upset about his lone Jackson, though, because tonight, he’s “throwing a big ass roof top party. A hundred people are invited. Hopefully it’ll turn into a Girls Gone Wild Video.” Let’s all cross our fingers for that.
Ted Wesiberg’s been a trader for 38 years. He loves the tickertape, because it’s “the same in California, New York and Hong Kong. You might not like the price but you can see the price. Transparency is key.”
Did you know that in Russia, it is considered good luck if you surround yourself with money? I, a quarter Russian, did not know this (for shame), but it would explain why Alex Gerchik’s car is littered with dollar bills. Gerchik tells the story about how when he came to the U.S., he was a cab driver before coming a trader, which I guess would also explain why the guy (or gal) who edits WSW insists on all of AG’s b-roll being of him driving his car. You’re starting to see what I mean about Godfather I vs. III, are you not?
Sandra Navidi is visiting a financial astrologer, Henry, who’s been in the biz since 1967 (he knew about the ’87 crash in ’86, he says). This bit had to have been at the suggestion of a producer, because the look of disgust on Sandy’s face when Hank tells her “astrology is a science” fails to convey the message, “I came here out of my own volition.” (Inability to stifle disdain for others = another reason we love Sandy N.).
Andrew Barber, during “Street Talk,” explains the phrase “dead cat bounce.” (DCB “is a term used in market economics to describe a pattern wherein a moderate rise in the price of a stock follows a spectacular fall, with the connotation that the rise does not indicate improving circumstances.” That explanation was by Wikipedia, not Barber, but he puts together some nice words on the subject, too, though I can’t recall them at this time. You’re an okay guy, AB).
Tim’s still down. Sisinister music plays. In a parallel universe, Ruskie Gerchik tells us he hasn’t been down since 1999. If things aren’t going well on a particular day, he “stops trading for thirty minutes and goes to Dunkin Donuts.
Sandy asks Henry if he thinks she’s a Taurus. “I’d have to hold your hands and do some things we can’t do on camera to on camera to see if you’re a Taurus,” he counters. He then adds, “I can tell sex—maybe not in the West Village…do you get the joke? You should be laughing more…”
Here’s a good one to be written on the bathroom wall of your favorite watering holes: “The stars IMpel, they do not COMpel.”
At 2:52, Tim is down $3600 on the day and tells his stock, “you are a bitch.”
Sykesie-boy proceeds to go through a huge box to find a shirt to wear (his mom “didn’t come this week,” is why this is happening) for a meeting with a “billion dollar babe.”
At Patroon, we find that that BB is Sandy! Coincidink!

Sandy: What do you do on days when you don’t trade?
Tim: I read. I can’t read fiction.
Sandy: Me too, I’m the same way.
Tim: You should see my library, I’m on 46th and Second.
:::exchange of business cards:::
Tim thinks the meeting went well, and that he might have gotten a date out of it.

Party on the roof top!
Overheard on said rooftop:

“There are 5 girls in the bathroom? That’s kind of cool.”
“Take off your shirt!”
“I’m already making more money than anyone here—well, I mean with the exception of Tim”
“I’m the only one of my friends making money; I feel it’s my duty to be the godfather of throwing parties.”
“99% of the best stories I have are with Tim.”
“I was cramped in the room with funny little Jewish kid”
“I hate to use the word 'boy wonder,' because he’s not really a boy.”

“The stars IMpel, they do not COMpel.”-- write it down.

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