That’s money honey

I didn’t even want to be a banker. Not that there’s a pin-striped press gang wandering the streets of London, forcing people into a life of international finance against their will, coshing people with a stock portfolio before leaving them, possibly brain-damaged, in a marble foyer with a blackberry and a Charles Tyrwhitt loyalty card.  It’s just I sort of drifted into it.

They were handing out free beer. I didn’t even know who they were – they weren’t in disguise, it’s just my interest in banking was limited to my student overdraft – and as a student a free anything, especially beer, was of interest. I gave them my CV, and, not thinking I was their type I thought it was a pretty reasonable deal. When I returned from two interviews in London, the second of which made me absolutely certain I was not their type, I forgot about the first interview and did a rather good impression of a sour grape, swearing I was never going to work there even if they paid me, which does seem to imply I had misunderstood the basic premise of a summer internship.

At the time my views were social democratic / liberal. I could just short-cut that awkward phrase and describe myself as a lefty, but like so many labels it keeps bad company: Arthur Scargill, Harriet Harman … Stalin. It’s like describing yourself as a euro-sceptic, which, let’s face it, however sceptical you are about the European Union, is also shorthand for “I’m a right-wing xenophobic nut-job who dislikes foreigners”.

I did the internship for the money. I was a student and I needed it. Then I went back the following summer. Then they offered me a full time job.

So perhaps it was the money after all, but I prefer to think it’s more complicated than that. I used to have a manager who said “money only demotivates people, I’ve never met a person whose performance was improved by the prospect of more money“, and I suspect he is right. When it comes to remuneration people either seem to feel that they have got the right level or not enough, and that other people have too much. I have yet to meet anyone who feels they are overpaid. Money is like freedom: it’s always good to have more and it’s awfully easy to take it for granted when you have it.

I stayed for the work. I get bored easily and every day people would bring me new, intriguing, fiendish puzzles to solve – which brings forth a strange mental image of someone dumping a stack of “Puzzler Monthly” on my desk every day.

“More puzzlers, boss?”
[Through a cigar poking from one corner of his mouth] “‘Fraid so, Ninja.”
“This just ain’t right, boss.”
“This is a bank, Ninja, not a holiday camp. I should have hauled you have the coals for that wordsearch you did yesterday, dammit man.”
“Sorry boss.”
“We’re all sorry, Ninja, but it don’t get the puzzles done.”

What I’m really trying to say is that I’m not greedy, that there’s reasons other than the money. Greed may be good, but it is a surprisingly shy character trait.

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