What is it really like on the trading floor?

I have been asked this question many times in the past 10 years...what is it like on the trading floor?  People think that where I work is somehow romantic and intoxicating with power.  They see the portrayals on TV about Wall Street and think that somehow we all make Millions of $$$$ and don't ever feel pain or doubt about our existence.  I can tell all of you this one fact- those who will tell you that our life is one big power trip are totally full of shit.  

Where I work is the ultimate Mindfuck.  I have seen people who all of thought were making Millions go bankrupt.  Then I have seen some of the people who wear the same pair of smelly pants to work for 14 days in a row make enough to just retire at age 35.  They were only wearing the same shitty pair of pants because it brought them luck every day.

In reality, going to work on the floor is like going to prison.  I mentioned this thought in the previous post but I will explain in greater detail.  Most of the people I work with were graduates of High School but nothing more.  They were intelligent people who were too lazy to go to college but had a sharp enough mind to make $$$$ in the floor in a fast paced life style. These guys are Hustlers in the truest sense of the word.  

Many of the people I mentioned above are just as quick in their thoughts as a computer and make money even though they would not be able to explain how they manage to do so.  In fact, my former boss, who was a college graduate but just didn't give a shit could tell me a value of an option quicker than a computer program I had that was designed by a Nobel Prize Winner.  When I asked him once how he knew that was the value (after I saw the computer confirmed his answer), he told me it was "I know what I know so fuck off."

On a more mundane level, I realized within 2 minutes of my new job on the floor that almost anything illegal I wanted could be bought there.  People dealt drugs (I was drug free but I observed).  If someone wanted illegal Cuban Cigars, I knew someone who sold them.  Did you want to see "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" before it hit the Movie Theaters? No problem, someone could sell it to you with the original DVD quality copy.  What about something more lower class? Thats fine, someone could offer you "The Women of Rikers Island" for $2.99.  Finally, suppose you are single and can't get laid to save your life.  Someone there was a pimp and could set you up with a fine mami for "only" $500.  

I realized early on that basically anything you could want, someone would sell it to you.  You might ask my thoughts on this system.  Honestly, it was all a bit overwhelming to me and I just accepted it as a way of life.  I learned by osmosis that people simply operated differently than I ever did before I went to the floor.  

Sometimes, I thought that the floor was simply a cover business for people to sell whatever they wanted.  Ok, so someone was a computer clerk but he made 10x more money by selling drugs.  Great, good for him. I didn't give a shit.  I never bot drugs for 2 reasons. #1- I am a long distance runner.  Any drug (including alcohol which I do partake in) will hurt my performance.  #2 I believe in a stubborn way that any money one spends for drugs is somehow surrendering the money they make for a bullshit cause.  Therefore I wont give up money for any narcotics.  Just to show you how anal I am, If I win money in Atlantic City, I refuse to buy a $20 cheeseburger because I think somehow I am giving back what I fairly won for something I didn't need.

Of course, you also had people who worked there but it was simply a front for laundering money.  I saw people who claimed they traded but spent more time selling Rolexes that they said "fell off a truck." It was rather obvious how they really made money but I didn't give 2 shits.  Everyone had a gimmick and the truth was you didn't want to deny them their opportunity to make $$$$$.  

So there you have it.  All of us on the floor are shooting the moon for what we believe we should earn in life.  Some of us are trying with our minds, others are trying with their personality, and still others are trying to scheme.  

The next time you look at a TV snapshot of people in the trading pit, with arms akimbo and screaming frantically, try to see it is a microcosm of life.  All of us are flailing against fate and trying to make a name and wealth for ourselves against the odds that life has dealt us.  In the end Hope is the great equalizer against the cold stone of reality.