Really Man?

Ok, the inter-web is going to have to be subjected to this because I don't have anywhere else to go with it.

On Friday I had a meeting that our contact at Goldman prime brokerage asked us to take with a fund that they are doing capital-introductions for.  The group of "gentlemen" that I met with included a marketing guy from New York (who was actually southern), an analyst from Los Angeles, and a portfolio manager from London.  This already sounds like the start to a bad joke, it wasn't funny.

The meeting was roundly uneventful, the marketing guy talked too much, taking away from time for the PM.  The PM was great, sharp guy, soft-spoken, very considerate thought process - everything you want and expect from a guy running hundreds of millions of other people's money.

The meeting was wrapping up at which point LA-based analyst (who to this point had said approximately nothing, which I would come to find, was the appropriate amount of involvement for him) chimes in with his two cents on the final question I had put to the PM.  His answer basically contradicts what the PM said.  We're already ten minutes over, so I'm about to let it slide and continue to get up from the table.  This is when he cracks some joke about Brazilian women (this is an emerging market fund).  He follows it up with a second, even less funny foray just to make sure we can't ignore the first one.  The room falls silent and I am forced to actually pay attention to this kid beyond the three seconds I invested while taking his business card an hour prior.  I had mentally noted that he seemed a little greasy (bad suit, too bold of a tie, gelled hair that is actually standing up - you know, what all the cool guys did... in 8th grade) but this is when I notice that he also has one of those stub goatee's just under the lip.  He tried to awkwardly laugh it off.  The marketing guy changed the topic and asked about follow-up materials.  I couldn't stop looking at the Analyst, who's eyes were now down at the conference room table.  Everyone shook hands and they headed off for LAX.

I don't know why this bothered me so much except that it just doesn't seem right.  This kid has essentially nothing to offer the world.  He was probably 2-3 years older than me, living proof that there are diminishing marginal returns on the natural ebb of maturation over time.  It frustrates me that this kid has a job, went to university, probably has a girlfriend who thinks she's the luckiest girl ever to be dating him, and is so unaware of his own worthlessness that he opens his mouth in meetings where he should just put his head down and shut up.  He is the epitome of what is wrong with Los Angeles and why I don't fit in well here.

This all came back to me because I got an e-mail from the PM this morning trying to recover from it all.  No wonder the guys I used to work for want me to come back as opposed to taking a flyer on a new guy.  If this is what is out there, I'd be worried too.

A little something I've learned over the past five years in a lot of meetings as both the allocator and as the analyst.  Don't speak unless what you have to say is really valuable.  I do a mental count in my head where I hold back until I really feel like I have to say whatever has come to my mind.  Don't talk for the sake of participating, this isn't grade school and there are no points for effort.  Also, if your PM says something, even if he happens to be wrong, don't ever contradict him.  Think of him like the girlfriend that you're madly in love with but who happens to be in a horrible mood: she is always right, you are 100% on her side, whatever she feels is entirely valid.  Just remember that and you should be good.  My advice to this guy (who's name is Jeremy... figures) is just never speak, ever.  Also, get yourself a better pair of shoes.  It isn't just women who pay attention to that.

Venting complete,

-I Heart Palindromes