Slights

Story time.

It was 2013, I had been running The Daily Dirtnap for about five years, and while my business was growing, I was in the phase of my career when I was still hungry. One of my subscribers was a former colleague at Lehman, a real A+ guy, and he offered to try to get me a firm subscription at the bank where he worked. But he said that it had to be approved by a guy named Claus (not his real name), who was a research analyst of some sort and the gatekeeper for all subscriptions. And I had to meet with him in person, in New York.

So I got on a plane and made the trip. I arrived at the bank at about 11am that morning, and through a complex series of intermediaries, I found myself sitting across from Claus in his office. I had even gone to the effort of putting on a suit. Now, to give you an idea of where my head was at that moment in time, Claus was about my age, had been in the markets for about the same amount of time, so I considered him a peer, and my assumption was that this would be a friendly, peer-to-peer conversation. No. Claus immediately started grilling me like I was interviewing for a first-year analyst job. Absolutely tearing me apart. And it went on and on. I don’t know how long it lasted—maybe about 45 minutes—but at the end of it, I wanted to punch him in the neck. Now, to be fair, Claus obviously knew more than me about markets, but a lot of people do—I am not one of the world’s sharpest financial minds, but I do what I do well and I have my own edge, so it shouldn’t have mattered. I’ll also add that I am a simpleton and like to keep things very simple about markets—if you can’t explain it to a third-grader, then you don’t know what you are talking about. Claus was throwing terms at me like “gamma dispersion” and “vega convexity,” which in retrospect, was an effort to make him seem smarter than me.

Anyway, I walked out of there with my tail between my legs, $1,500 poorer for having made the trip, and with no subscription. Now, I can handle a no. People say no to me all the time. But he didn’t have to humiliate me.

Which brings me to one of my favorite quotes, which I’m sure you have heard before:

People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

Outside of the fancy vol terms, I don’t remember a word of what Claus said to me. But I do remember what I felt like when I walked out of his office. His name came up in conversation tonight, after his appearance on a large podcast, and it brought up those feelings all over again. Claus can fuck his own face. That’s the way I feel about that guy. But karma has everyone’s address, and my subscription business ultimately exploded, and I am pretty sure that I make more money than Claus these days, and I’m pretty sure I live in a bigger house, and I’m pretty sure Claus hasn’t played in Vegas. But that’s resentment talking, and what I am supposed to do is to wish for Claus to make even more money than me, live in a bigger house than me, and do whatever Claus does in his spare time, really well. But wouldn’t you know that after 13 years, I am still pissed. I’m not spiritually perfect.

This falls into a category of what I would call slights. Slights are worse than actual insults. If someone calls you an F-word (the other F-word), you can brush it off. Ha ha ha, that guy is an asshole. And you forget about it. But if someone slights you—you remember it forever. So when Claus’ name came up in conversation tonight, it got me thinking: have I ever slighted anyone else? I mean, probably—and I didn’t even realize it. And there is probably some guy out there who is stewing about it 13 years later. Although I think the difference here is that Claus was an actual misanthrope, while I never intentionally make someone feel small. But people have told me that I am aloof, and somewhat self-absorbed, so I am sure that it has happened. And the thought of it makes me recoil in horror.

Most slights today happen electronically. I’m sure you’ve had this experience on social media, where you’re about to “like” someone’s post, and then you think to yourself, hey, that guy never likes *my* posts, and then you think of all the times the guy has liked other people’s posts, and so without ever having a conversation with the guy, you come to the conclusion he is an asshole. Fuck that guy, for starters. And then of course, a few years later, you meet him in real life, and you get along famously, and then you don’t care whether he likes your posts or not. You might not think that you keep social credit scores on people, but you do. You do it subconsciously. Yes, we are all that petty. To combat this, I try to like everyone’s posts, regardless of whether they like mine or not. I mean, it costs you nothing—just a mouse click. And if the other person sees it, he will say, well, that was nice. And his day will be marginally improved. Like I wrote recently, you want to spread light and joy in the world. You do nice things for people without expecting anything in return. Sometimes you will get something in return, and sometimes you won’t. You shouldn’t care. Unconditional love.

The other place people get slighted are parties and weddings. Ever know someone who had a 300-person wedding and you didn’t get the invite? How did that make you feel? Right. Or, someone has a Halloween party every year, you’ve gone every year for the last five years, and then…no invite. You start playing the tape back in your head. What did I say? Probably nothing. In situations like these, you should ask what your part in it is. Maybe you haven’t been as good of a friend/neighbor? Maybe you’ve been talking less, and it is actually your fault, because you’re jammed up in your own bullshit? That is the most likely scenario. How should you respond in situations like these? And notice that I used the word “respond” instead of “react.” Well, nobody needs drama, so you don’t blow up their phone about not being invited to the stupid party. Just focus on being a better friend. This is what is known as a “living amends.” You can’t control the past, but you can control the future. Be a better friend, and maybe you will get the invite to the party next year. Or not! Remember, we do things unconditionally. You don’t want to be transactional when it comes to friendships. I will say that is the one downside of working in the finance industry—people are very transactional by nature. You do something nice for me, I do something nice for you. Very few people do things unconditionally.

I am not a very warm person. Like I said, aloof. And I spend a lot of time in my own head. These days, I am trying to make an effort to pay more attention to people. Ask them about their day. Compliment them on their clothes (though I don’t get much opportunity to do that in Myrtle Beach). Ask about the gall bladder surgery that you don’t really give a shit about. The funny thing about this is, if you do this enough, you will actually find yourself giving a shit. I may not be much, but I’m all I think about! I think I wrote this in a previous newsletter—if you go from thinking about yourself 99% of the time to 98% of the time, it will make a huge difference in your life. Remember, people don’t remember what you say, but they remember how you made them feel. This is Dale Carnegie-type stuff, and I really need to go back and read that book, because I haven’t read it since college. And I didn’t have the maturity to make use of it back then. You ever meet someone at a party and you introduce yourselves, and 30 seconds later, you’re like, shit, I forgot their name! Guilty as charged. The reason we do this is because we aren’t paying attention when they tell us their name! We are thinking about ourselves. Bill Clinton is many things. There is a pretty good chance that he got handjobs from teenagers. But he was one of the greatest politicians of all time. If you knew Clinton, you know that he knew everyone’s name, and where they worked, and what they did, and what flavor of ice cream they liked. Yes, he was smart, but he was also simply interested in other people—unlike most of us. Even if Clinton didn’t like you, he would make you feel good about yourself. Not an accident he served two terms as president.

I am working on it. It does not come naturally to me. And yes, I wish Claus well, the bastard.