Donaldson Lufkin - Monkey business: swinging through the Wall Street jungle

This story is about the dues that all junior investment bankers have to pay.In general, the only way for a young associate to survive the investment banking gauntlet is either to buy into it hook, line, and sinker or to maintain some sense of humor about what it is that he is doing. Keeping one foot grounded in reality, though, doesnt necessarily dictate the maintenance of any mental equilibrium. After all, if youve got one foot on a block of dry ice and the other on a red-hot stove, the average temperature may be pretty comfortable but youll still end up with two blistered feet at the end of the day.

from MONKEY BUSINESS

Outrageous and hilarious.

BookPage

Well written, humorousfood for thoughttimely, quick-paced.

Library Journal

Copyright 2000 by John Rolfe and Peter Troob

All rights reserved.

Warner Business Books

Warner Books

Hachette Book Group

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New York, NY 10017

Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

The Warner Business Books logo is a trademark of Warner Books.

First eBook Edition: October 2009

ISBN: 978-0-7595-2320-3

When we started writing this book, we ran into a dilemma. We had lots of stories we wanted to tell, but we also had lots of friends who didnt necessarily want their names associated with those stories. We knew that a story without people isnt much of a story, though, so we decided to make some changes.

The stories in this book are true. However, weve modified the identities and certain details about the people and companies and divisions weve written about. All the names except our own, DLJs, and those of Dick Jenrette and John Chalsty, have been changed. The dialogue has been reconstructed to the best of our memory. After all, we didnt spend our days as investment bankers wired up like a couple of CIA guys.

Hopefully, weve managed to protect the innocent and embarrass only ourselves. Were OK with that. We hope this keeps our friends friendly and ensures that neither of us will ever wake up with a horses head under our bedsheets.

Truth is indeed stranger than fiction.

There are a whole bunch of people we need to thank.

First of all, wed like to thank the lovely ladies whove promised to spend the rest of their lives putting up with us: Marjorie and Amy. Were two very lucky guys, although we might not tell you that quite as much as we should. Your support and encouragement are priceless. We love you.

Second, wed like to thank our entire families. Moms, dads, stepparents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, in-laws, and the rest of the gang. Were just happy that were not the only dysfunctional ones in the crew. You make us proud. If it werent for you, wed have no one to thank for our deviance.

Wed like to thank our editor, Amy Einhorn, for great editorial advice and for making this entire process as easy as it could have possibly been. Thanks for helping us relax when we just got too damned hyper. Youre an angel.

Wed like to give special thanks, for both reading the early drafts and providing other invaluable advice, to Lisa Cohen, Susie-Q Silva, Julie Wurm, Mike Marone, Nick Day, Deion Oglesby, and Lou Wallach.

Wed like to thank everybody else who read the early drafts of the book and told us that we needed to try a little harderClimpedy Ballbag, John McGuire, P Rowan, Dan Shore, All- Sports & Kelley Day, David Hillman, David Jackson, and Jon Bauer. One day perhaps we can repay youlike with a cookout or something. Well even buy the beer.

Wed like to thank the entire crew at Time Warner Trade Publishing, especially Sandra Barkwithout all of you, it wouldnt have happened.

Wed like to thank simian artist extraordinaire, Larry Keller. You draw the best monkeys of anyone we know. May your life be full of bananas.

Wed like to thank our counselor, Bob Stein, for providing good advice and helping us chart a safe course through the sometimes uncertain waters of publishing legalese. We like you lots and would love to spend more time shooting the shit with you, but that damned business of getting charged by the hour is standing in the way.

And, of course, wed like to thank all our other pals who were in the trenches with us at DLJ, without whom we wouldnt have had anything to write about. You know who you are. We hope that every single one of you finds what youre looking for.

Caution: Cape does not enable user to fly.

Batman costume warning label

I never could understand how two men can write a book together; to me thats like three people getting together to have a baby.

Evelyn Waugh

A few years ago, Rolfe and I stood on the edge of what we thought was a desert. Across the desert we believed we saw a lush, green oasis. We hoped that the pleasures of that oasis would one day be ours. The more we thought about the oasis, the more convinced we were of the untold pleasures that lay within its luxuriant borders. There was only one problem. The desert.

When we first started out as investment banking associates, the oasis was represented by a coveted appointment as a managing director of the firm. We were willing to cross those hot burning sands, the interim years as investment banking associates and vice presidents, in order to one day bask in the shade of a palm frond. A few months after beginning our journey, though, we began to suspect that the original oasis that we had seen might be a mirage. For a time we became lost, delirious in the hot sun, but eventually we regained our bearings. It became clear to us that whatever oasis lay out there for us, to get there we were going to have to cross more sand than we could ever have imagined.

We reasoned that many careers have a painful rite of passage attached to them. The medical profession has med school and residencies. The legal occupation has clerkships and the years of initial grunt work. The investment banking business is no exception. Young investment bankers must pay their dues in order to be able one day to grab hold of the brass ring. Most, if not all, senior bankers paid these dues and took these lumps. Some of them are better off for having done so. If they had to do it, then so did we. Those were the rules.

Are we better off for having subjected ourselves to the associate ranks of investment banking? Yes. Was it all miserable? Absolutely not. We experienced lots of good and lots of bad while on the dues-paying highway, most of it without much sleep. But at one point along that highway we decided to pay the exit toll and get off. We both still work in the world of Wall Street, and wed be lying if we told you that money doesnt matter to us. When it came to investment banking, though, the costs and the benefits seemed way out of whack. So we dont work as bankers anymore, and now we enjoy walking into work every day.

This is the story of our rite of passage. Its the story of two investment banking associates and our long journey from eagerly competing to enter the world of investment banking to even more eagerly scrambling to get out of it. This book is our catharsis. Banking is what we didinvestment banking associates were who we were. Like virgins defiled, we cant possibly rid ourselves of the scourge to which we knowingly submitted. It strengthened us and it toughened our hides. That was good and that was bad. If there was a pumice stone for the soul, we would have scrubbed ourselves raw. There isnt.