DealBreaker's Guide To Getting Laid Off: A Modest Resignation Notice

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So you're a first year and just got laid off, excuse me, finished your course load early. Not much left to do but pack up your shit and mosey on out of there, right? Wrong, you unimaginative fucks. First, you need to gather the e-mail address every single client, colleague, superior, family member, frat brother, and journalist you've ever encountered or thought about encountering in the last decade. Second, you need to fill out the form letter that follows (not that you aren't all special in your own way, but minimal variation is necessary, and I'm not paid enough to work on a case per case basis. If you'd like something one of a kind, it's going to cost extra).
Anyway, the letter. It serves multiple functions: first, it violates your employer in the most gruesome fashion in front of clients and other interested parties. Second, you "leverage" your experience to make yourself sound better than you are (if your three months on Wall Street have taught you anything, it should be that leverage offers handy short-term gains. Dick Fuld knows what we're talkin' about here). And third, it will amuse us, which is this only solace I take from this hellish Siberia of financial journalism. Please, when you send said letter, I implore you, stick us on the BCC (unless you've got a pair bigger than Oyster Boy's, in which case, feel free to add us as your legal adviser at the bottom).


To: All parties CC:ed
Importance: high as FUCK
Subject: mayday
To whom it most definitely concerns,
[Name of firm] is going to tell you I was "let go" today, as part of a right-sizing effort. But it is a bold-faced lie. I am leaving of my own accord because THIS SHIP IS SINKING. I suggest you do the same. Here is the shit, feel free, nay, encouraged, to disseminate widely: Our balance sheet is completely made up. Our CFO, [fill in name here], selects random bar code numbers in place of the true horror story that will soon engulf this cesspool and consign it to the scrap heap of corporate history. In truth, [insert CEO here] has been a straw man for years [or months when warranted] and I have been propping this place up like Atlas.
Exhausted from swimming against an endless tide of ineptitude (not to mention a constant barrage of same-sex harassment by [insert name of CEO here]), I have decided to move on. To those of you shocked by these revelations, fear not! I offer a port in the storm: I am starting up a hedge fund the strategy of which cannot be disclosed over email because of its sheer fucking awesomeness. If you act quickly, I will trim my fees for the first $2bn in AUM with an 8-year lockup.
At the very least, for the love of God, pull your money and cease all relationships with the shithouse known as [insert name of firm here]. I have it on good authority that Bernanke himself has it in for this dump, and there will be no bailout should one be necessary. And I assure, it will be.
All the best,
[Your name here]

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Area Big Time Banker Can't Get Laid In A Whorehouse, Wants People To Know About It

What would posses a person to do an as-told-to article about the fact that after "failing miserably" at trying to pick up women in bars while working late for a "big name investment bank in New York," he turned to a "sugar daddy dating site" to bang hookers on his nights away from the wife and kids only to fall for one who ultimately broke his heart, because she was a prostitute and didn't actually care about him? The answer, quite, obviously, is love. Love, and a hope that a certain someone will see your story and upon reading that you're completely and totally over her and beating off call girls with a stick, COME RUNNING BACK. I met a girl who said she was a senior at Columbia University. She was so hot. Long brown hair, light eyes, perfect little body. We started an affair and I would give her a $4,000 "allowance" each month to meet once a week for dinner, or just to sleep together if I had a deal or a really late night in the office. Sometimes it was an hour of "small talk and sex," which, really, isn't a bad deal for her. $1,000 for an hour to spend time with me. I felt like a stud, there's no denying that, and I knew that she didn't want anything from me but money. She would come and go away when I made the signal I was tired. Soon though, I started liking her more than I wanted to. She was smart and kind of had a sarcastic sense of humor I found funny. I asked to see her more and she asked for more money. I said I couldn't do any more than that, and she said she couldn't give more time. It was the first time I felt a little hurt, like: "This person just wants my money and probably thinks I'm some gross horny old dude." The next month, I gave her the envelope of $4,000 upfront instead of $1,000 each time. We had sex, chatted, drank some wine and she left. I never saw her again. She wouldn't pick up her phone, then her phone was disconnected, my emails to her went unanswered, and her profile on the site was gone. It was such a blow. Though, really, what the hell did I expect? I guess some warning. Yes, some warning would have been nice but whatever. It's not like you're still upset about it. It's not like there isn't a moment of the day when she's not on your mind. It's not like you lie in bed at night thinking about her holding you. No, no sweat off your sack, which you use to bang hookers six at a time now that whatshername is out of the picture. Working girls line the street to get paid to have sex with you! You don't even have time to respond to all their propositions! The Jiltee has become the jilter! You can't even remember [theloveofyourlife]'s name you're so busy plowing prosties. After that, I decided I was going to go for quantity and not quality. I want hot girls, but a lot of them and substance isn't a huge deal. I have been with dozens of girls, and I give them money each time I meet them. The funny thing is often these girls are chasing me to sleep with them again, because it's easy money, but I just scroll through and delete or ignore the messages most of the time. Men want to be with a lot of women; it is just the truth...Maybe that first girl was a wake-up call. I'm already married. I don't need a steady mistress. But I have one or two I always go back to if I can't find someone I like, which happens a lot....I'm not hurting anyone by doing this. I'm always safe and upfront if I meet someone and know it won't happen. I just pay for the drink and let them know and leave, like "No deal, sorry." It is just like any deal. You have to know how to close it and have to know when you're not interested in putting in the effort to see it through. Why This Married Wall Street Banker Pays For Sex [Buzzfeed]