Saturday, September 14, 2013

Suburban Purgatory- Two Point One

"Back when I went to grad school at Wharton, we actually learned real substance.  These kids; these first-years at Goldman now, its flat-out ridiculous," blasted a large Indian-American at the bar.

He was middle aged, solid throughout, and wearing a dark creased pin-striped suit.  His blue shirt, doubtless exhausted from a prim and proper day of meetings, had crept itself out from his girth, and now poked out, mostly untucked.

He was speaking to a young couple at the bar.

They clearly couldn't care less.  But they were being polite.  Smiling and nodding, but in between, their eyes darting at each other, trying to hatch a get-away plan.  This was not possible.  Raj was not self-aware enough to notice.  And they were ill-equipped to stop him.

"And now, its like, I say I work for Goldman, and I still get that look.  Like I single-handedly destroyed the economy," he went on.  "Please.  And I tell you, bonuses for the execs this year.  Way down.  And, I mean, that's a huge part of my comp."

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