INTERN DIARY: Entering the testosterone-filled world of the trading floor
Another desk change again this week and the usual whirlwind of handshakes as I acquainted myself with the new team. It's a confusing affair, with the ever-increasing diversity in investment banking throwing up a smorgasbord of complex and double-barrelled names, which was a painful Monday morning wake-up call.
The first task was to attempt to cosy up to the analyst now acting as my new buddy. Obviously, I'm hoping to learn from the internship, but the ultimate aim is to secure a graduate offer, so the analyst's impression of me could either make or break my end review.
Luckily, in stark contrast to most other people I've encountered here, she was one of the nicest people I've ever met. She'd apparently battled her way from the back office into a front office role - something of a humbling journey, according to other analysts I've spoken to. Either way, I was pretty happy with this situation, and she didn't seem to get overly-annoyed with my constant questioning.
It was also a completely different atmosphere from my previous assignments. On the Risk desk when I tried making conversation, the analyst promptly told me as politely as possible, "it would probably be best not to speak unless it's to ask for more work". On the markets desk, whilst there was some conversation, this mainly took place after 5.30pm, and even then was scattered and brief at best.
My new desk felt like an open-cry market! The team was known to the rest of the trading floor for its notorious aggressiveness, and they certainly lived up to their reputation. I'm surprised any of the phones lasted more than an hour, considering the intensity at which they slammed them on the desks at the even slightest annoyance.
It felt like I was back at school again, and found myself having to suck up to the head trader who was the alpha male of the group, by going on numerous coffee runs to fuel his fix.
Still, it wasn't so bad being a coffee bitch, as I found I was able to make a handsome profit because most of the traders and salespeople overpaid - anxious not to seem cheap in front of their colleagues and too self-conscious to ask for their change back afterwards! Either way, the coffees seemed to lift the mood of the desk, albeit it for about 30 minutes until the caffeine wore off.
By the end of the week the testosterone filled environment had filtered through to me and I found myself shouting across the dinner table to my parents. A quick slap on the back of the head brought me back to reality. I definitely had got a buzz from this new desk, but I'm not sure how much more I could take of this constant aggression and always being on my guard.
