"The Naked Stockbroker"

The Naked Stockbroker



He had the big corner office with the view. His colleagues hated him for it, but in Wally’s defense he was just better at his job, or had been until recently. Wally was expected to make money for the clients of the firm. It was their job to beat the street, never mind the DOW shed five-hundred points a day.

Wally watched his colleagues through the cracks in the blinds of his office. His salt and pepper hair was a mess and he realized he forgot to put on deodorant before leaving the penthouse.

The other brokers are all watching the flat-screen TV’s that nearly covered the office walls. Wally isn’t for sure what’s happening, but he can see a lot of red on those screens and red isn’t good in his industry. It wasn’t as if they were selling ketchup in this state-of-the-art office.

Alicia, his administrative assistant, knocked on the door. She barged in before he could respond. He stood up as a reflex.

         “Oh Jesus,” she cried out, while taking a quick glance down. She turned and slammed the door behind her. Wally watched her walk halfway through the office, which took up an entire floor, before she slowed down.

         “Alicia, it’s complicated,” Wally said, knowing full well she wasn’t a superhero capable of hearing him. “Keep me posted on what’s going on,” this comment was directed at everyone. He didn’t care as much about the crisis as the others. His money had been locked away in a money market account for the past six months. Only a crazy bastard would have money in this market. Of course, they couldn’t tell their clients that. People ignored reality when dollar signs were involved.          

         The chaos in the office aside, Wally needed to locate his pants. The window was open, so all he could do was hope he hadn’t launched them outside. On a positive note, his dress shirt was rolled up neatly in the corner by the bookshelf. He didn’t remember tossing his shirt over there. He couldn’t remember opening the window either.

He suspected the blue pills he had taken this morning were the culprit of his memory loss. They were Xanax pills. They might not have done the trick on his mind all their own. The whiskey he washed down with them must have played a part. In his bathroom at home sat an orange vial with the warning label: Do not use with alcohol. From now on he would have to start taking warning labels a bit more seriously.

         Wally was trying to keep an eye on Alicia through the cracks in the blinds. No doubt, she was going to raise some stink about his nakedness. It wasn’t proper, Wally had to admit. She had walked into a private office though. That might hold up in the right court of law.

         He had to think about salvaging the situation with Alicia now. He could take her out to lunch—on the off-chance she would go. Better yet, buy her some gift certificates for the dining experience of her choice. He might try giving her a raise, but that ran the risk of looking like all out bribery, which would definitely hold up in a court of a law: Ladies and Gentleman of the court I would like to enter into evidence pay stub A. and pay stub B. You may now levy a massive settlement and burry the brokerage firm of Bell Brothers in Wall Street History.

         It was only matter of time before Alicia rounded up a posse and barged into his office, dragging Wally out in all his nakedness. The only question now was what to do with the last few moments he had here at the firm. He thought he might fire up the espresso machine, sober up some and get a solid caffeine rush all at once.

         A better plan might be to get a hold of some of his better clients and inform them they were now broke. The reaction wouldn’t be friendly, but Wally felt he at least owed them a heads up. The firm wouldn’t like him doing that; putting the clients in panic mode was not a page out of the Bell Brother’s playbook. Then again, being naked at headquarters would definitely be frowned upon as well.

         “Cash out! That’s right pull it all to the ground you idiots,” Wally shouted. This got some heads to turn briefly.  No one really noticed the bare-backed Wally yet. He thought about getting up and opening the blinds all the way, exposing himself to the entire office. He might at least get a proper stare that way.

         The phone rang. The name on the caller ID was Nate Summerall, one of the other senior brokers. Wally didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah, Nate,” there was zero emotion in his voice.

         “It’s one of the worst days in American financial history and you’ve gotten naked in your office,” Nate sounded impatient, but not angry. “We have important things to discuss. If I have to, I’ll come in there no matter what your wardrobe situation is buddy.”

         Wally sighed. A man shouldn’t have to defend himself for getting a little relaxed in an office he’s occupied for ten years. “I didn’t expect anyone to walk in. Tell Alicia I’m sorry.”

         “We can do the usual for her: a couple gourmet meals, gift basket and small bonus check.”

         Wally liked Nate’s idea of damage control. “What would we put in the gift basket?” He asked. He is intrigued at the idea of bribery. He worked for the most unholy company in the most unholy industry mankind has ever thought up. So he should not be surprised at any of their tactics.

         “Oh buddy, we got to get you up to date on the sexual harassment thing.”

         “I wasn’t harassing her Nate. I was just…getting comfortable in my office.” Wally knew his words wouldn’t get through that thick skull of Nate’s. Nate had decided Wally was a pervert and he was trying to protect the firm by making a few ridiculous suggestions. “Just tell me what to get. I can go to the mall, assuming it’s still open when today’s train wreck is finally over.”

         “Some gift certificates for spa treatments. Tony in Financial Planning gave me that idea. I didn’t even ask what kind of jam he was in.”

         Wally didn’t feel he should be put out financially by this incident. It was his office. It wasn’t as if he rushed into Alicia’s cubicle demanding sexual favors. He was an innocent man dealing with a stock market crash as best he could.

         “I can’t go to the mall just now Nate. I can’t even find my pants. I’ll deal with this though buddy,” Wally was pulling the phone away from his ear. He liked his cell phone better. Land-line phones were too heavy. They didn’t even connect to the internet.

         Nate said something about today’s market crash before Wally hung up on him. He was hungry and not in the mood to talk. He couldn’t go out and get lunch until he found those black slacks that were so elegantly pressed.

         The scary thing was that he really started to believe he had tossed them out the window. He had looked everywhere since he regained his senses an hour ago. It wasn’t like he had a lot of places to check: desk drawers, under the desk, the closet and behind the bookshelf.

         He supposed he could always call down to the Macy’s and have someone bring a pair of trousers up. He was an account holder there after all. He was entitled to all the perks and privileges that entailed—including an emergency clothing situation.

         The phone rang again. It’s Leonard Sky calling. Leonard is a pompous idiot that happens to be a client of Wally’s. When he loses ten cents in the market he calls to get pampered about it. This morning he’s probably already died of a massive coronary and his ghost is calling and demanding an explanation.

         “Yes, Mr. Sky,” Wally answered without a hint of panic. He sounded relieved if anything.

         “Yes? What kind of greeting is that,” Mr. Sky is not quite as calm as Wally. He sounded like he was choking his breakfast up. “This is not a day for yes. Are you even watching the market? I pay you for that. I pay you to get upset about these things.”

         “You may not be paying me for anything very long Mr. Sky. You see I’m naked in my office right now.” Wally felt this amount of honesty might calm Mr. Sky. He was wrong.

         “Naked! What in the name of hell are you talking about?”

         “To be more specific Mr. Sky, I lost my pants. I know where my shirt is, but I haven’t gotten around to putting it back on yet,” Wally sounded more like a massage therapist giving a good rub down in a dark room, than a broker under fire. He wasn’t going to apologize for the market. He was not going to pretend to be concerned about this ass hole’s money either.

         After a moment’s hesitation Mr. Sky had worked out a viable solution to the problem. “I can see I’ll have to be taking my money elsewhere Wally. I don’t approve of nakedness at the office sir. We aren’t in Europe where it might very well be accepted. Here in the American business world people are expected to be clothed at all times during business hours.”

         Mr. Sky hung up the phone with an overdramatic gasp. Wally laughed uncontrollably in the lonesome office. No one in the office heard, or if they did, they didn’t care. All eyes were fixed on the TV’s. Wally was the one exception.

         Wally wasn’t tempted to bring his computer or television to life. He hadn’t done so in three days actually. If the higher-ups in the offices up stairs got wind of his new work ethic he would be booted out the door, security escort and all. As a further act of defiance, he unplugged the clock radio on his desk. Now he was completely cut off from technology.

         There’s a knock on the door. “Wally I’m coming in,” Jake, one of the other junior brokers said. “I know you might have had some sort of breakdown. I’m here to help.”

         Wally ducked down just a bit, so his entire chest wasn’t exposed. He should have locked the door. Now he had to deal with Jake, who might give him another three seconds to collect himself before barging in. He wasn’t interested in helping. He wanted to brag about how many times he had squirmed out of his own personal jams. Wally was having real mental health issues. Guys like Jake kept their personal problems out of the office, hiring shrinks and prostitutes to ease the stress.

         Jake let himself in. He was careful to quickly pull the door closed. That Jake wanted to help Wally avoid more embarrassment was a nice gesture.

         “Alright, I get it my man. Everyone has their coping mechanism and this yours,” Jake sat in the leather visitor’s chair in front of the desk. He didn’t seem offended by Wally. His tone and comfortable mannerisms suggested he was quite OK sitting across from his naked co-worker.

         Perhaps Jake had a point. This could be a coping mechanism triggered automatically. The human brain did all kinds of things without permission from the owner: heartbeat, respiration and metabolism happened all on their own. These were good things that shouldn’t be changed. His inability to locate key clothing items demonstrated the inability of the human brain to deal with certain high-pressure situations.

         “I didn’t do this on purpose Jake. It just happened when I wasn’t paying attention,” Wally nodded down towards his crotch, implying he knew how ridiculous this situation was.

         “Don’t worry about Alicia. Look, I know you don’t exactly play the field here. That’s something to be respected. I don’t understand it personally, but I’m not one to criticize. Just think of me and Nate as your personal damage control experts. Once we get this brushed under the rug we can go back to being the first class financial geniuses we are.”

         Jake made a motion as if he was holding a broom and attempting to sweep the firm’s problems under it. Wally was having a moment where he couldn’t believe someone entrusted with so much money could actually act like this behind closed doors. He shouldn’t have been surprised. The nation had just coughed up a president that liked to snort cocaine while clearing brush on his Texas ranch.

         Wally said impatiently, “You need to tell me what’s going on out there first. This morning I didn’t want to know. Now I think I should at least turn on my computer.” Wally reached into his desktop printer and grabbed a blank sheet of paper, which he used to wipe the sweat off his face. It was one of those portable ones that fit in a laptop bag. Jake thought it must have cost a fortune. That was one of the perks of practically being here from day one.

         “Just tell your clients it’s a recession. Tell them to stay in the market and not panic. That’s the company line. March on my capitalist ally,” Jake gave some half salute that would have gotten him a dishonorable discharge in any reputable army. “As for what’s going on…it’s something that will pass. I’m not going to tell you anything that will set you over the edge. Your window is open already my friend. I wouldn’t want to be the one to push you through it.”

         He wanted to tell Jake not to worry about the window plunge scenario. But, Wally thought, if his peers believed he was on the verge of a catastrophic breakdown, it might be best to get some sympathy. He was a believer in milking a situation for all it’s worth. That’s how he and his kind survived in this business.

         “I’m not interested in the market anymore Jake. All I care about is getting my Rueben sandwich on rye. I can’t do that until I find my pants.” Wally felt this was to the point.

         Jake laughed his smart ass laugh. He even went so far as to clutch his stomach as if the act was wounding him. “You don’t really know where your pants are? Holy shit, the world needs people like you Wally. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to complain about being overstressed at work again.”

         “Look, Jake I just want some lunch. It would be nice if you could find it in your heart to run to the department store and grab me some slacks while you’re at it. I’m easy: thirty-eight inch waist, thirty-two inch inseam. I don’t care about the color. I got a white shirt that will go with anything.” Wally pointed towards the corner where his shirt was wadded up and thrown sometime early in the morning.

         “Anything my man,” Jake sounded so irritating this morning. It could be that Wally was just getting more intolerant of the younger brokers at the firm. In reality Jake was the one that was putting up with Wally in this particular scenario.

         “I would get up and shake your hand but...” Wally nodded down towards his waist line.

         “Please don’t. “ Jake gestured for him to stay seated. He looked alarmed at the idea he might have gotten up. “And keep your TV off.”

         “Yeah, I think I’m through with technology. I might buy a cabin in the woods, live off the land and all that.”

         “You want to go all Theodore Kaczynski on us. Can’t blame you. The market is pretty rough these days.” Jake waved as he walked out the door.

         Wally immediately locked the door behind him. The office felt drafty now. He needed another drink to warm up.

         The phone rang again and Wally is weary to even glance at the caller ID screen. He does so anyways. Peter Almond, the department head, is ringing. Peter probably wants to give his advice on the company’s unofficial sexual harassment policy.

         Wally tried to talk himself out of answering. He couldn’t avoid Peter for anymore than a few days. It was better to just take the bullet now. “Hello Pete.” Wally tried to sound sincere. “Quite a mess today isn’t it.” He thought the market talk might steer him away from the real issue at hand. Not that it would do any good; Alicia was probably crying is his office right now.

         “I hear there’s a wardrobe issue downstairs,” Peter commented politely. “It’s been a stressful day my boy. We need to put a day like today behind us. Don’t you agree?”

         “Yes sir we do.” Wally shook his head in the affirmative. He knew Peter couldn’t see him, but he felt like it reinforced his agreement. He felt more naked talking to Peter. All head honchos had a way of putting their minions on edge. That was the secret of leadership.

         “You’re not the only one that’s likes to get down and natural at the office Wally. I wanted you to know that.”

         “Sir…I don’t know what to say exactly.” Wally always felt Peter had a screw loose somewhere. The guy came to a Christmas party dressed as the Easter bunny one year of all things. Since that time everyone steered clear of him.

         “I know you’re surprised Wally. Everyone thinks the boss is the tight ass, but I have to deal with the everyday pressure too. I used to drink more when I was here, but that gets you some pretty dirty looks sometimes. Now I just get my naked time. It’s much healthier than the booze or the pills.”

         “Thank you for your understanding sir.” Wally barely got the words out. He wanted to laugh out loud. It took every bit of willpower he had not to.

         Wally realized he had found something more important than the financial mosh pit. He had found a little piece of freedom inside these electronic walls. He didn’t care where his pants were now. More importantly, his boss didn’t seem to mind that much either.

         “Lock your door from now on Wally.” Peter hung up.

         Wally figured he could he wait on that Reuben sandwich. He wasn’t in a hurry anymore. He decided to let the younger ones outside his office slug it out. He was done worrying.