3 minute job

3 months, 100 days. That was how long he was given. And it didn’t even take that long to end.

The entire hedge fund job came and fizzled out within that span of time. It was interesting and fun, highly experiential and eventful. It was not enlightening nor mind blowing, neither life changing nor eye opening. The Duff learnt very little on trading, but quite a bit on human nature, and the animalistic tendencies of humans in terms of corporate survival, no matter the size of environment. Even a microcosm would have its respectively sized web of political intrigue.

The Duff was fired for being deemed unsuitable for trading. Upon 2 months of results, the head trader was able to surmise such a judgement. He was of course entitled to his opinions, and the Duff took it with the weight it deserved. The boss thought he’d figured The Duff out totally, but in time he proved to be a hopeless judge of character and manager of people. Ask the Duff out for a coffee sometime and he’ll spill all the beans, so to speak. It all sounds as bitter as a double shot expresso, but trust him when he says he has all the dirty leftover coffee residue as evidence, astonishingly filtered and coagulated into a black pulp of facts. Isn’t the truth always dirty?

But the 60 days or so on that job The Duff was living a part of a dream he always had, which was to work in the middle of the financial district, to be in the rat race, spiffily dressed to blend and yet stand out, enjoying the sights and smells of finely minted ladies.
But alas, the waking up bit was always coming.

So on to his next adventure. When you are downtrodden and weary, Reach for the skies!