"Another day, another ruddy headline about soaring bonuses. When I see such articles I want to puke. I jumped ship a year ago, assuming that the party was well and truly over - as a lot of people did. The whole global financial system was fucked and it would be sufficient just to avoid global catastrophe. Who would have dreamt that huge wads of cash would return to the square mile?
When I scarpered, everyone was banging on about changing their ways, adapting to the new world order. All those smug journalists, who’d until recently venerated rampant consumerism and stratospheric property prices were overnight converts to the bohemian love of simple, unconventional living. And I thought I might give the 'alternative lifestyle' a go myself, especially if it let me live a little.
I knocked out a Michael Lewis style book about the last days of banking, a snapshot of impoverished bankers trying to reinvent themselves. Stupid time to do it, though. These impoverished bankers, as it happens, were all busy writing Michael Lewis style books about the last days of banking, and overwhelming publishers and agents with the manuscripts. After the tenth rejection letter I presumed that nobody really wanted to know.
Now, I'm trying to flog this new website idea and it’s the same old grind, day in day out. But what makes it worse is that I get up in the morning and see these bloody headlines about massive bonuses. Do I feel righteous indignation? Of course I do. I never imagined that, had I hung on a bit, I might have managed one last walloping payday. That might have kept my alternative life thing ticking over for a little longer.
Oh well, perhaps I should give the Dragon's Den idea another try. If I could just get through to Evan Davis direct… Not sure it's the done thing, mind you. But then 'who dares...' and all that...
Old mate of mine who's still working in the city says that he knows the mobile number of Theo Paphitis no less. Wonder if it would piss the ‘Dragon’ off, though, if I gave him a tinkle..."
By guest blogger Wat Tyler