Monkey Business Read Online Free PDF

and no one except the culprit knows who farted. This was clear. I went to the bathroom and stunk
     up the joint. However, the next interviewee would probably think that one of the interviewers from Bear, Stearns took the
     crap. That made me feel good.
    My second-round interview with Goldman Sachs was held in the same hotel. The Goldman interviewers sat me at a long table.
     They must have made a special request tohave this table put into the room because no hotel operator in their right mind would have put a table of this size into this
     particular hotel room. The two interviewers sat on either end and I sat in the middle. I couldn’t see both of them at the
     same time so I had to keep turning my head back and forth like I was at a tennis match. This was a real pain in the ass, and
     I knew that they had set the room up that way on purpose.
    In that interview I screwed it up when they asked me if I thought I had been a good analyst or an excellent analyst. I first
     thought, damn, another one of these catch-22 questions. If I say “excellent,” then I’m a pompous jerk. If I say “good,” then
     they’ll ask me what my shortcomings are. I sheepishly said, “Excellent?” Both of the interviewers paused and a hush filled
     the room. They were looking for the “I was good, a team player, and always looking to improve myself” answer. Actually, I
     knew that they were looking for the “good and team player” answer. The “excellent” answer made me look pompous, and Goldman
     didn’t want that. I felt like a schmuck for screwing up the question when I knew what they wanted to hear.
    Well, I knew that was the end of my chances at Goldman. It was that quick. One screw up and I was out. The interview process
     is a pressure game, and in order to succeed you have to be a pressure player. Goldman wanted “good and improving” and I gave
     them “excellent.” That was it. I was dinged. At least I didn’t shit in their bathroom. Maybe I should have.
    I interviewed Friday, Saturday, and then again Sunday with DLJ. The interviews went well. The most entertaining interview
     with them came on Sunday, when I met with Blake Randolph, Greg Weinstein, and Frank Alario.

    Blake Randolph’s nickname was Face Man. That was because he was tall, good looking, and a smooth talker. Blake looked like
     a
GQ
model, and he was always the guy out on the front lines pitching the business. He was damned good at it.
    Greg Weinstein was a jack-of-all-trades at DLJ. Weinstein didn’t think his shit stank. Many people in the firm wanted to whack
     Greg upside the head. I would soon learn that his nickname was the Widow, as in the black widow spider, because a black widow
     spider kills her lover immediately after fucking it.
    Frank Alario was Mr. Nice Guy. We called him Sweetcheeks. All the junior bankers loved Sweetcheeks because he was really,
     truly nice. That made him a prized commodity. However, Sweetcheeks had to compete with guys whose cheeks weren’t as sweet
     as his, and this sometimes posed an interesting dilemma for him.
    I sat down and Blake said, “How about those Knicks?”
    I knew a lot about the Knicks and we hit it off. We talked about Charles Oakley and whether the Knicks should trade him. We
     talked about Ewing and whether it would be his last chance at a championship. The conversation went on. An hour went by and
     we were still talking about the Knicks. Finally, Weinstein said, “We’ve only got five more minutes. So, do you think that
     you were a good analyst or an excellent analyst?”
    It was the same question that Goldman had asked me. But this time Greg Weinstein was asking the question. I could already
     tell that he was a pompous ass. I was ready. The answer was obvious.
    “I was excellent,” I said. For the Widow that was theright answer. I knew that I had a good chance of getting an offer.
    On late Sunday night, I got the call from DLJ.
    “Hey, Pete, it’s Blake Randolph. You’re the man.