Well, over this past business week I've learned so many things. For one, in the same way that you should never judge a book by its cover, you should never judge a bathroom stall occupant by his shoes. Even if they're totally distinctive shoes, like the original Air Jordan IIIs in white/fire red? Yes, gentle reader, especially then. A few days ago, a friend of mine told me the story of a 'friend' of his (he probably either heard the story from someone else or was just making it up -- but what does that say about the story I'm telling right now?!?!) who was working for 'one of those investment banks where everyone wears Gucci loafers.' An unbelievable comment in its own right, but let's keep our eyes on the prize here.
Anyway, as I'm sure you can see coming based on my eloquent preamble, mad shoe confusion ensues. Two friends see some Gucci loafers under the stall door, think it's their third friend whose shoes they've been making fun of, start throwing balls of wet paper towels over the door, only to find that it is not actually their friend, but rather the boss man. A pretty hilarious story to be sure, but a deeper message lies within: investment banking is kind of lame. There, I said it.
On a completely different note, it seems the Giants are going to the Super Bowl, forming one half of perhaps the only possible game in which I might not be able to root against the Patriots. If you followed that, mazel tov.
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