Looney Tunes doesn’t hold a candle to the cartoon characters in this business. In fact, if Bugs and Daffy sat around on Saturday mornings in their feety pajamas in front of the TV, you can bet your hindquarters that we’re the ones they’d be watching.
I dedicate the following list of sales trader "types" to all the unfortunate clients who deal with us every day. I know what it’s like to sit among these animals here at the zoo, but what I did was try to imagine how this army of misfits and delinquents must look to you.
Rock Star— This guy has never had a bad (or average) night in his life. If you buy into this guy’s delusion, every night out with him is a rock-star night. This guy has a new story about the night before every day. And every night was better than the last. "We got a table. I got it on the tape…. We were doing belly shots off Paris and Lindsey on the bar. Angelina and Brad Pitt were at the next table." Blah, blah, blah. Models and bottles, baby.
Dinosaur— This guy who continues to dial for dollars still trades in 1/8’s and 1/4’s. If it weren’t for his father getting him his job 2000 years ago, he’d be telemarketing chimney sweeps or calling you during dinner to try and extend the warranty on your dishwasher.
Sleeper— Every time you call this zero it’s as if you just woke him up. He never has any idea if he’s involved in the name your calling on or what your name is… Don’t worry about it. Just go back to sleep.
Troller— "Hey just a heads up – My guy just had a very positive meeting with your analyst about going long XYZ and… I just so happen to have a seller on my desk right now."
All Star— Whether it’s an ex-baseball player or football player, every desk has at least one Jock. Customers usually light them up in exchange for a captive ear while they ramble on about last night’s game. I’m not a big sports fan, but I get the impression that talking sports to an ex-pro verses a regular dude is like watching the game on a new 50-inch plasma instead of a 27-inch black and white. Guys just like it. Unfortunately, once you get off the topic of sports, there’s very little left to hide the fact that these guys have the personality of unsalted pretzels…but they usually have access to great season tickets.
The Hobo— This is the guy who managed to find his way onto Wall Street but can’t seem to balance his checkbook and is perpetually over-extended. He’s always broke, about to lose his house, owes $20K to some guy named Vinnie, about to lose his job because he can’t make his drawer and you have to hear about this every single day. He’s the waitress putting her way through night school with three sick kids and the bum at the top of the E-train steps holding the rusty tin can. Get a new line.
Paper Boy— Every time you turn around this guy’s knocking on your door trying to collect on a research chit or management meeting. "I understand my guy is in with your PM right now talking about his outlook on semi’s – that’s one of my best guys" … How about letting your analyst leave the freaking building before looking to get paid on it? Let’s give it some time and see if your guy was even right. Does your waitress annoy you to pay the bill while you’re in the middle of dinner? Easy, Tiger.
Scrap Book— Mr. Family man feels it’s necessary to keep you in the loop with his family picnics, kids’ birthdays and includes you on his Kodak Gallery distribution list along with his Aunt Sophia and gay brother Michael. "Look how big my kids are getting."… Like you give a hoot.
Note Takers— These guys creep me out. I used to sit next to a guy like this: He would use push pins to tack up random facts and pieces of data that customers would leak out during casual conversation. Birthdays, anniversaries, weekend plans… he would write anything down that he could bring up later to give the impression he remembers and cares about you. His desktop looked like the police bulletin board down at central station, where they try to solve serial killings. Don’t say two words to this guy.
Chicken Little— The sky is always falling. You’re sorry you called this guy even before he picks up the phone. He’s always in a panic and calls you after every 1,000 shares trades to ask if "you’re still OK selling them or if you want to work?" Bro – handle it.
Double Agent— This guy’s a weasel, a carp, a bottom feeder who usually sits so high on the board of the clean-up committee that he’s lost sight of all business ethics. This guy’s bread and butter comes from highlighting sizable situations and market moving flow to more opportunistic clients. And if he’s providing your fat pampered buyside butt with too much information, you can be sure as sugar that your picture, name, address, Social Security number and shoe size are being shopped all over Wall Street, too.
Trader’s Trader— This guy never misses a print, a news item, always has intellectual feel for the market and seems to almost always pull your average back to better than the VWAP. The only problem is that – away from yours truly, he doesn’t exist.
–Dopey
Dopey was the founder of the Web site, dopeycowboy.com. For two-and-a-half years, Dopey offered his wit and wisdom about the "untold stories" of Wall Street to a faithful following on trading desks and curious onlookers across the country. It should be noted that the firms, people and practices depicted in this column are fictitious. Any similarities to actual firms, people and practices are purely coincidental.
The views represented in this commentary are those of its author and do not reflect the opinion of Traders Magazine or its staff. Traders Magazine welcomes reader feedback on this column and on all issues relevant to the institutional trading community. Please send your comments to Traderseditorial@sourcemedia.com
