Full Jake and Hungry

His clothes were a bit frayed but not yet ragged. His salt and pepper hair was neatly combed but could have used a washing. His face was decorated with two days of stubble. He was sitting on a plastic storage box with a newspaper as his cushion. The piece of cardboard he held as a sign was clean and precisely cut. The sign contained a single word so beautifully lettered it could have been painted by a professional sign maker. The word on the sign was “Hungry!”

Jake was rounding the corner to the front entrance of the office building when he saw the man holding up the sign. “Oh damn, another panhandler!” This one was sitting just far enough away from the building to keep the security guards from hassling him. “But he’s still close enough to accost me before I can escape into the building.”

Jake did not mind parting with some loose change. The problem was that there were so many beggars and many of them were so aggressive that they seemed threatening. This one glanced up at Jake and said good morning. He did not smile at Jake, and the inflection in his voice did not communicate joy or sorrow. It was as though he had simply stated a fact. Jake normally averted his eyes when he encountered a panhandler; it was the old ignore them and they will go away tactic. But there was something about the manner of the greeting and the pretty lettering on the sign that made Jake want to talk to this one.

“Hello, Hungry. I’m Jake.” Jake silently chided himself for telling the panhandler his name. That was never a good thing to do.

“I suppose being Jake is better than being hungry.”

The panhandler’s reply made Jake realize that his introduction must have sounded condescending. “We’re all hungry for something.”

“Spare me the sermon. All donations are appreciated but, believe me, there’s no way you can match the pious load the Salvation Army lays on us at Christmas or Thanksgiving.”

“I wouldn’t think of trying, but why did you think I was going to preach to you?”

“’Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness…’ That’s a verse the moneyless leisure class knows too well. It’s one of the things frequently told to us as we suffer the pangs of physical hunger and thirst while sitting through the sermons.”

Jake could picture the derelicts salivating on the hymnals like Pavlov’s dog. “If they fed you before the sermon you would probably bolt out the door the moment the sermon began.”

“Not I. Listening to the sermon is the price of the meal, and they’re far too likely to remember who skipped out on the bill.”

Jake laughed. “I guess if I gave you enough to buy a meal, you wouldn’t be hungry any more.”

“Not for five hours or so.”

There was no arguing with that. “Then you’ll be hungry again.”

“And, for better or worse, you’ll still be Jake.”

“Why did you say for better or worse?”

“Which one it is depends on what you’re hungry for.”

“If it weren’t for your previous statement I’d think you’re about to preach to me. I’ll make a small contribution to forestall that.”

“The quality of mercy is not strained, but it’s tightly sealed in the purse of the counting house.”

The beggar was obviously trying to increase the amount of the contribution. Jake gave him two dollars. Hungry was wearing a butt pack he had turned on his body so that it covered his lower abdomen and rested lightly on his lap. He unzipped one of the compartments and inserted the dollar bills.

“You spent some of your hard earned cash well today, full Jake.”

“You should put hungry philosopher on your sign.”

The panhandler smiled. “I eat therefore I am.”

“I pay therefore I am.”

“We all pay. One way or another we pay.”

Jake walked into the building and down the hall to the elevators. The conversation with Hungry was very much on his mind. We all pay, and the price we pay depends on what we are hungry for. He pushed the up button for the elevators. Although we frequently fret about our expenses, Jake did not think the cost of material things was much of a problem. At least the material things have price tags that tell us what we must pay up front. That was not true of our ambitions or other emotional things; they do not have price tags. Well, maybe they do. Maybe the price tags for our ambitions and other emotional things just have such small print that we find it too difficult to read them.

Jake stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the twenty-first floor. Karen squeezed through the doors as they were closing.

“Good morning, Jake.”

“Good morning, Karen.”

She was a very attractive young lady. He smiled at her, but her greeting was somewhat of an intrusion on his thoughts. He asked himself what he was hungry for. Wealth and recognition, he concluded. Money buys power and recognition brings prestige. Fame would be flattering, but the autograph hounds and such would be a pain in the ass. With power and prestige you can get everything else you want.

The doors opened at the twentieth floor, and Karen stepped out of the elevator. “Have a good day,” she said.

“You too.”

The twentieth floor contained the arbitrage department, which tried to predict which currencies would raise or fall in relation to the other currencies. The people in that department tried to hedge on the currencies or profit from their fluctuations. It was also the floor that housed the back office. The back office kept track of the transactions among other things, and the people there tried to keep the firm in compliance with all the regulations.

The twenty-first floor was where all the action took place. It was where the brokers were. Jake had obtained his broker’s license less than a year ago. He was still working under the guidance of a hot shot named Thadeus Galleon. Thad gave Jake some of his less wealthy clients so that Jake could gain the experience he needed to attract his own clientele. He also told Jake which securities to advise his clients to buy. Thad even sponsored Jake’s membership at the country club.

“I have the golf bunch; farm the tennis crowd,” he told Jake.

Hungry was not there the next day or the day after that. The man was a panhandler. Jake could not think of a single reason why he should care about a panhandler, but he did care. He wondered if someone had driven Hungry off or if he was sick or something. This concern, however, was minor. Jake was too busy to waste much time worrying about an interesting beggar. He was given a generous expense account to use wining and dining prospective clients. His life was sales. He lived to bring in wealthy clients with lots of money to invest, and he was experiencing some rather remarkable success in doing that. He had already added four wealthy clients who were good investors.

Thad was pleased. “Try to get them to put as much as possible into the Cleary fund,” he said. “It’s like a mutual fund. It does not allow the investor to choose what percentage to invest in stocks, bonds, and money markets. It makes those decisions for them. It tries to balance the risks against the potential rewards. It’s aggressive but safe.”

The atmosphere at the firm was almost giddy. This was a boom time, and everyone was raking in the cash. They compensated for the long hours by drinking and laughing a lot. Men and women also paired up to steal some precious time for sex. It was an exciting atmosphere for a young man, and Jake was having fun.

When Jake rounded the corner that morning he saw Hungry sitting just far enough away from the building to keep from being hassled. He still had the beautifully lettered sign and the two days of stubble.

“Hello, Hungry.”

“Good morning, full Jake.”

“Are you getting enough to eat?”

“I always need help, but I don’t think I’ve lost any weight. What about you? Are you getting enough of what you’re hungry for?”

“My cup runneth over and my larder increases daily.”

“Lucky you. How tight are your purse strings?”

“Not quite as tight as last time.” He gave Hungry three dollars.

“Thank you. Enjoy the good times, but be prepared for the bad times.”

“Oh, I think I can handle the downturns.”

“What about a precipitous drop?”

“Is that what happened to you? Did your business fail?”

“I was really raking it in, making as much money as fast as I could. I was also spending it as fast as I was making it. I was drinking too much, smoking pot, and snorting coke. I was not getting much sleep, and my behavior was becoming erratic. Then the bottom fell out our market. You could say I dropped out, but I was also given a strong push in that direction.”

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that.”

Jake ended the conversation by walking away to the safety of the building. He was doing what he knew he should not do. He was becoming friendly with a beggar. A beggar’s job is to talk people out of their money. A beggar will expect more from you if he thinks you consider him a friend. And what was with the doom and gloom warning? Jake dismissed it. Unlike the beggar, he was not doing drugs. He realized that he was probably drinking too much, but that was the way the game was played. He got into the elevator car and rode it to the clean, exciting world of the twenty-first floor. No matter what happened there would always be some people who have lots of money. There would always be investors.

Over the next several months he kept his conversations with Hungry very short. Hungry picked up on the hint and kept the verbal exchanges light. Although he used his smile sparingly, some of Hungry’s statements were very amusing. He had plenty of time to watch people, and he was very observant.

Events at the firm were a mixed bag. Jake was hearing and seeing things that should have raised red flags. There was a lot of talk about the need to clear certain securities, and there was a lot of pressure on him to sell shares of those stocks to his clients. He was sure the firm made a market in those stocks and probably had too many shares in inventory. He told himself they were still good investments. At least there was nothing to indicate they were bad investments.

A few weeks later Karen took Jake aside to warn him. “Do you know the stocks Thad is making a market in?”

“He hasn’t told me what he is making a market in, but it’s not too hard to figure out.”

“Well, the shares we’re holding in inventory are beginning to reach a level that will draw the attention of the regulators.”

“That’s not good.”

“No it isn’t. Be careful Jake!”

Jake tried to put her warning out of his mind. There was nothing he could do about it, and he was sure Thad was smart enough to scale back on those stocks. Then he heard something he considered even more disturbing. He overheard a broker who handled corporation accounts and institutional accounts describe a particular deal as a real stinkeroo. “You’ll be proud of how much of that I’ve already sold short,” he said. “We’re going to make a bundle on it.”

Had it always been this way? Had Jake merely missed it, or had the attitude of the brokers actually changed? It seemed to him that the more money they made the more they wanted. They were now thinking of their clients as investors to be exploited rather than people who were depending on the best advice their brokers could offer. Jake was no angel. He was as guilty of being greedy as the next guy, but there was a line he did not want to cross. If you violate your fiduciary duties the consequences can be severe for you and your clients.

The next time Jake saw him, he gave Hungry five dollars.

“Are you trying to buy your way out of purgatory or are you just feeling particularly generous today?”

Jake was sure this was meant to be a joke, but it came too close to what he was actually feeling. “I don’t feel guilty about anything. I guess I’m just beginning to think of you as my lucky charm.”

“I hope you’re right because I think you’re going to need some luck.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about all those complex investments, such as derivatives, and who is in them. It seems to me there is a growing mountain of financial shit. The larger that mountain becomes the more unstable it becomes, and I’m really afraid there’ll be an avalanche.”

“So now you’re an expert on investments.”

“Just because I’m a bum doesn’t mean I’m uninformed. I probably have more time to read about it than you do.”

“And you’re scared?”

“When the bubble bursts it’s not going to be good for anyone, including me. People don’t give as much when they’re feeling strapped.”

“I suppose you’re right about that. I hope you’re wrong about the market.”

“So do I.”

Unfortunately Hungry was right about the bubble. In September the sub-prime loan market became a sinkhole that swallowed many financial institutions and was threatening the entire economy. By October the stock market went into something resembling a free fall. By November the firm where Jake worked was close to bankruptcy. This prompted an audit that revealed some serious irregularities. Investigators then moved in and they were going from office to office. Jake heard one of the regulators say something about the possible stock price manipulations. Jake instantly thought about the stocks Thad was making market in. “Galleon, my ass. The man’s a bloody pirate.” He had talked Jake into selling quite a few shares of those stocks, and Jake was worried about that. He left the firm that day with an empty grief case. Hungry was in his usual place.

“Bad day, full Jake?”

“The worst!”

“I’ve heard about what’s happening. What’s your personal liability?”

“Not too great I hope.”

“No offense, but I think you’re a pretty small fish. If they file a criminal case, I think they’ll drop charges against you for your testimony. If they file a civil suit, they’ll probably name you in order to make it easier to get your testimony.”

“Not a pretty picture.”

“No sir, but I don’t think the legal part will be that much of a problem. The financial cost of this debacle is another matter.”

“I have to find another job quickly because I don’t want to take up your profession.”

“It’s not so bad once you learn how to do it. I lived on the streets for a year until I kicked the drugs and the booze. Believe me the streets are a jungle with predators and some very mean drunks. Beginners think the more destitute they look the more sympathy they will receive, but they are wrong. People are repulsed by the filth and desperation. The trick is to look like you have recently fallen. That makes people think that all you need is a little help to get back on your feet.”

“I take it that you don’t live on the streets anymore.”

“I live in a run down apartment. It’s a single room with a bathroom, but I do have a stove and a small refrigerator. I even get laid occasionally.”

“Good for you.”

“Most men try to buy poor women with drugs or booze. I’ve discovered that it’s better to buy them food and make friends with them. It takes a lot longer to get laid doing that, but you attract better women. It’s worth it even when they don’t lay you. You can never have too many friends”

“Hungry, you’re a lecherous old rake, but I wish you luck.”

“Good luck to you, Jake.”

Jake was going to walk away, but he decided to satisfy his curiosity first. “What do you do for money when your not here?”

“I paint a few signs or decorate some windows when I can find someone who will hire me to do that, but most of my income comes from panhandling.”

“So panhandling is your primary occupation.”

“Yes sir.”

“With any luck I won’t have to use the tips you’ve just given me.”

“I sure hope not. The damn recession is going to increase my competition too much as it is.”

Jake laughed. He took a dollar out of his wallet and held the money out to Hungry. Hungry shook his head.

“You might need it. This conversation’s on me.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jake was one of the lucky ones who lost his job. He had friends who helped him find a new one. It was in a different profession than stockbroker, and it not pay him nearly as much as he had been making. So much for power and prestige, but at least he was not destitute. One of the oddities in our laws is that the broker who was selling worthless stocks to corporations and institution would walk away unscathed. His clients were considered sophisticated investors and that relieved him of the fiduciary duty he would have owed to unsophisticated investors. Thad, on the other hand, was a smaller player, and he would pay the legal price for trying to manipulate the price of stocks. Both brokers deserved to be punished. The people they swindled would be lucky to get ten cents for every dollar they invested.

So what was Jake hungry for? He could not say at this point. He still wanted to be wealthy but not at the expense of his integrity. He still wanted people to consider him a success, but how do you define success? What had happened made him grateful for what little he had and for the good people he knew. Hungry was right about never having too many friends. Jake decided to call Karen and ask her if there was anything he could do to help her.

 First published in macsbackporch.foxtail-farms.com Aug. 11, 2010