The Banker Who Found Fun

Once upon a time in a city far away there lived an investment banker who was up with the birds to cover the gold futures and fell asleep with Nasdaq numbers twittering in his ears. He may have been well off, but he was lonely and bored. After all, what was the use of his 3 AM workouts if there was no one to impress, to share his pillow or his inside information? When he retired, there’d be no one with whom he could clip coupons.

Taking fate by the throat one evening, he left work early, at 10 PM, and stepped into a cab. As luck would have it, he was picked up by a genie named Mel who was moonlighting as a cabbie while finishing up his MBA. By the time they’d gone a few blocks and exchanged business cards, they were networking like mad. When apprized of the banker’s quest, Mel offered to be his Virgil in the New York City underground.

They first tried a hot Midtown Club but after taking a gander at the banker’s tasseled loafers, the bouncer gave him the gate. At a club in Chelsea known to be partial to his kind, but it was retro night and if you weren’t dressed like a hippie it was no dice. They cruised all over town while the meter ticked, but the banker was striking out. Finally Mel suggested things were always happening downtown and so they drove to a bombed-out building in Alphabet City where a crowd of colorfully dressed people milled about the entrance.

“I’d give anything to get in there,” whined the Banker, “but I’ll probably never get passed the bouncer.”

It was late, Mel was tired but he was also sympathetic to this poor schlub’s problems. Turning to his fare, he said, ” Look man, it’s against genie union rules, but I’ll grant you one wish. Just don’t report me to the hack inspector, ok?”

In a trice, the Banker was inside where the music was loud, the atmosphere smoky and there were women there with whom he could get lucky if he had a mind to. He was in the process of hitting on a girl wearing purple mini, black stockings and white lipstick when the narc squad burst through the doors and arrested everyone in sight including the banker.

MORAL: Sometimes fun isn’t where you find it.



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