Corporate Whore

The Corporate Whore is still alive; however, a change of moniker is in order!

The following is a post I begun, meaning to chronicle Summer 2008. A series of fortunate and not so fortunate events meant that I was unable to continue with the update, until now. I conclude the post with a summary of what has happened since the post was written.

“
A series of very fortunate events … Introducing Horny Harriet

Summer ‘08 shall be chronicled as a three part series.

The third week of the summer intern hunt began as innocuously as any other week. There were presentation sessions organised for a few of the interns, this was followed by a mid-week networking session (read: Intern piss-up) and the usual Friday drinks; it had been a fairly mundane week.

Being the affable and easy-going chap that I am, I decided to get to know a few of the interns and offer my unique insight into the world of strategy consulting (and perform full reconnaissance on the female interns without being too conspicuous). I was introduced to an intern who I’ll call Horny Harriet. From the outset she (Horny Harriet) appeared to be the typical intern hired by our firm, she studied at a prestigious university, had been the captain, president and chair of various clubs and societies, on top of some amazing charitable work. I didn’t spend an excessive amount of time with her as I had a mission to complete. I was introduced to and had conversations with the majority of interns. I had previously ruled out any advances that could have occurred, as I was on a purely recon mission and devise my plan of attack during the next week.

As I was preparing my exit, Horny Harriet approached me and we struck up a conversation. From the outset I could tell where this conversation was headed. She began by asking me what was the worst thing an employee had done to get fired (well, these people haven’t been fired yet, so it can’t be so bad) and whether I had some close to any these offences. I gave a knowing smile and replied that I’m generally a good boy. She chuckled then said “It’s good to hear that you’re a good boy, especially when the client is footing the bill. Good boys seem to be the norm at uni but sometimes a girl just wants the experience of something that deviates from that norm”. From then on it was game on, I knew score. We arranged to leave separately, she would make her excuses and I would follow her 20 minutes later.

I arrived at her flat and we were at it almost immediately. With large quantities of alcohol coursing through our veins, we skipped the niceties and banter that is so often de rigueur with first night relations. We were approaching the big dance when she paused and whispered to me “Would you like to someone else to be involved, another girl?” I tried to maintain a semblance of calm, however, I can imagine that I didn’t succeed as she began to laugh. My reaction must have been enough for her as she began to make a few calls. She made approximately eight calls with none of them bearing fruit. “Oh well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be” she said. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass me by. I, like most men (I assume), like to believe we think with our minds and not our sexual devices. At this point, I’d like to think it was a combination of the alcohol and the possibility of a ménage a trois that led me to suggest HR Beauty as a possible partner. Far from being wary at the prospect of an unknown entering the equation, she was jubilant. I called HR Beauty - she had been out with friends and was also highly intoxicated - and invited her to join me at a party. To cut a long story short, HR Beauty was initially shocked, but ultimately agreed to the proposal. Conversing with Horny Harriet was certainly the best investment I had made in a long time!
“

• HR Beauty gabbled like a goose to a few of her HR friends about the events of that night, omitting her activities and wildly exaggerating mine.
• Word soon spread like wildfire. The once spotless Corporate Whore and been thrown into a tar pit.
• Around this time, I was fortunate enough to work on a project where I had the chance to meet a number of prominent Arabian financiers.
• I managed to sufficiently impress and was offered a job.
• I accepted and handed in my notice the next day.
• Within 48 hours, I was on a flight to one of the GCC states.
• I spent my garden leave making the necessary preparations.
• I began my new role early in the autumn.

So many interns, so little time. Thank God for HR and all the intern social events that are being held over the next 10 weeks. We’re all encouraged to attend to ensure they gain from our knowledge and expertise. The instruction I’ll be providing the interns won’t be covered in any undergrad/MBA classes.

The great thing about having interns is that every year we get a group of bright eyed eager-to-please individuals that will, for the most part, be sociable and won’t oblige to the odd drink or ten, especially when its at the expense of the company. I’m not suggesting my game plan is to ply them with drinks and let the juices flow, however, anecdotal evidence leads me to believe interns are more receptive to requests once their thirst has been suitably quenched.

I not only plan to quench thirsts, I’ll make sure they remain permanently wet for the next 10 weeks.

A very senior client employee that is golf buddies with a partner at your firm emerges from a toilet cubicle after moving his bowels as you walk in and immediately proceeds to shake your hand?
Corporate Whore response: Smile, until you realise he wants to shake your hand. Begin coughing profusely then walk out of the toilet.

A female partner has whispered suggestive comments about the possibility of you and her performing carnal gymnastics? Said female partner is married without kids and has a reputation for being tough as nails.
Corporate Whore response: Whisper back “Gymnastics eh?! How flexible are you and what positions are you willing to consider”

Your dragon of an engagement manager is about to walk into a client meeting with lipstick and spinach on her teeth. Do you inform her or let her be humiliated?
Corporate Whore response: Humiliation all the way. The client team spend most of the meeting in suppressed fits of giggles. The engagement manager is becoming increasingly frustrated, just as a member of the client team motions to signal the object of their laughter, a brave analyst speaks up and informs the EM.

You’ve been caught out by a partner for coding profanity into the decks you create? -
Corporate Whore response: Inform the partner you have no knowledge of the profanity. However, you will take greater care in monitoring the work of the analysts.

You accidentally send an e-mail to the client deriding the firm, your colleagues, the client, the engagement manager and virtually everybody you’ve come into contact with since you began the project?
Corporate Whore response: Lay the blame with I.T and claim you were nowhere near your laptop when the mail was sent. You know I.T have access to the mail server and this may be the work of a disgruntled (former) employee.

You meet a senior manager at an obscure bar when you’ve both called in sick?
Corporate Whore response: Attempt to ignore him. Then wonder why he’s in a bar at 1.30pm. Curiosity takes over and you ask him whether he’s having a liquid lunch with a client or whether he’s a closet alcoholic. He responds the latter, so you proceed to get drunk with him till the early hours of the morning.

You get caught in a very compromising situation with HR Beauty by a security guard?
Corporate Whore response: Ask the guard to return in 10 minutes as you’re clearly busy.

Answers on a post-card to corporate.prostitute@hotmail.com or you can leave a comment below.

A very senior client employee that is golf buddies with a partner at your firm emerges from a toilet cubicle after moving his bowels as you walk in and immediately proceeds to shake your hand?

A female partner has whispered suggestive comments about the possibility of you and her performing carnal gymnastics? Said female partner is married without kids and has a reputation for being tough as nails.

Your dragon of an engagement manager is about to walk into a client meeting with lipstick and spinach on her teeth. Do you inform her or let her be humiliated?

You’ve been caught out by a partner for coding profanity into the decks you create? -

You accidentally send an e-mail to the client deriding the firm, your colleagues, the client, the engagement manager and virtually everybody you’ve come into contact with since you began the project?

You meet a senior manager at an obscure bar when you’ve both called in sick?

You get caught in a very compromising situation with HR Beauty by a security guard?

Answers on a post-card to corporate.prostitute@hotmail.com or you can leave a comment below.

Using your I.D card to swipe through the barrier on the underground, glancing at your card then attempting to swipe through a second time before realising it’s not an oyster card and feeling foolish.

Having the following conversation with a friend after a long day.
“Look, let’s analyse this. Your core competency is your wit and carefree attitude. You should be using this as leverage in your cause to find a woman. You can also maximise on synergies with Richard and Drew …”. Drew and Richard were branded the ‘uglies’ of the group.

Giving a quick breakdown of how your dry cleaner could increase his profitability if he stayed open an extra 90 minutes each day.

Leaving the office to go home at 5pm on a Friday and being shocked that it’s packed. It’s usually a lot emptier at 9.

Having listened to a voicemail from an acquaintance that details a number of problems they are facing, you e-mail them with a deck a few days later that breaks down the problem (or your perception of what the problem is) and possible avenues to remedy the situation. There is no body in the e-mail except “please ignore spelling/grammatical mistakes. Will present to you soon”

Not seeing a flatmate for over 3 weeks, when you reside in a 2 bedroom flat.

Being able to recite the names of all the hotel restaurant staff and not knowing the names of your 5 closest (by distance) neighbours.

Knowing the schedule of the janitorial staff at the client site.

Slowly beginning to consider the possibility that maybe the world is composed of Type-A, overachieving, backstabbing wankers.

And the number one sign it’s time to take a holiday.

Not only having, but believing a fleeting thought that all your hard work might be the key to a significant change in the industry you’re working in. Thinking that this is THE project that will utilise your accumulated industry/sector insights; magnifying them brighter than a Type II supernova. Giving you a God-like status amongst the mere mortals in the business world.

A week in the life of a consultant bitch (courtesy of Booz Allen Hamilton)

*Edit
It would seem that the profile of Mr. Booz Consultant has been removed from the newly formed Booz&Co. How fortunate that the analysis of his profile took place prior to his profile demotion.
*

“Many people claim to hate Mondays.”

Claim? Sadomasochism must be rife in Booz. I don’t know anybody that enjoys waking up around 5am. However, I assume there must be a few that have no social life outside work, sleep at 9pm on a Sunday evening, refreshed for the 5am start.

“The fun and relaxation of the weekend ends all too abruptly and is replaced by the depressing monotony of a car/train/bus journey to the office. However such regularity is rare, if not non-existent, in the life of a Booz Allen consultant.”

The regularity is replaced by an unwavering sense of despair, deriding your youthful innocence thinking that YOU really could make a difference to your client’s business. Forget the seasoned professionals, forget the MBA grads, it’s your uniqueness and distinct view of the world that will shape the organisation of tomorrow.
Somehow, 5am starts did not factor in your plans of saving multinational organisations.

“During my two years at the firm, most Monday mornings have involved a early trip … ”

A early trip? I’m usually very forgiving of grammatical errors (no doubt I’ve fallen prey on many occasion), however, Mr. Booz consultant, if you and your firm are vying to be recognised in the same ranks as MBB, then you’ll need to dodge these school-boy errors.

“… to Heathrow. Cab at 5.45am, automatic check-in machine, shoes off and laptop out for security check, one ham, cheese and tomato croissant (or two if I’m feeling especially daring), … “

Two croissants is your idea of daring? Would I also be correct in assuming that Jeeves also drove the “cheap” Benz to collect you from boarding school when mummy and daddy were away skiing? Or do you model your daily calorific intake? God forbid what that extra croissant will do to your model! You might even have to create a new pivot table in light of such an occurrence!

“ … and a couple of hours’ sleep on the flight to Munich, Geneva, Barcelona or wherever the week’s work takes me…”

Mr. Booz consultant was instructed to include this line by Ms. HR colleague, hoping to attract prospective analysts with the “wonders” of international travel and also subtly attempting to tease the notion that they’ll be able to visit local sites, exploring the culture of a foreign location, all whilst being expensed to the client. HA!
The reality is more sobering; wake at 7:30am, arrive on site by 8.30, 20 minute lunch break at your laptop, work til 11pm, back to hotel, repeat.

“But this is where any routine element abruptly ceases. Once you have landed, the mind has to switch immediately to the reason you are here: the client.”

The demanding, narcissistic, bastard of a client. You’ll grow to despise the client almost as much as you despise yourself at 5.01am on a Monday morning when the alarm has disturbed your brief nirvana.

“Once at the client’s office ­—where we spend approximately 75% of our time … “

Read: 99% of our waking time, the other 1% being journeys to/from client site.

“ … the activities are always varied. One’s level at the firm, the client’s industry, the functional work stream and your specific role within the team are just some of the factors that will determine how you spend your days.”

Lies, regardless of your level (bitch), client industry (you won’t care), functional work stream (anything but IT), specific role (bitch) you’ll spend your day exploring the wonders of Microsoft Office products, namely PowerPoint, Excel and Outlook.

“The regular ‘value-chain’ of activities that we enjoy are client meetings and workshops (clarifying what the problem actually is), doing practical or computer-based analysis (working out the answer), and writing and making presentations (stating the answer).”

You enjoy client meetings where you’re bent over and anally raped, then forced to remain on site until midnight each and every night? Workshops are boring, you won’t be clarifying much. You’ll be taking notes. You took notes at uni, it was shit back then, it will be shit when you know you’re in some way being judged on the quality of your notes. At an amazing stretch, writing and making presentations can be fun the first time and for the first draft. When it’s 10:30pm and your 7^th draft has been returned asking for you to scrape and synthesise some obscure data from a data source that may not exist, the fun is removed and has been fully replaced by a sense of hopelessness.

“Working hand-in-hand with the client, you are truly brought into their world.”

Their world that ends at 5:30pm. You’re brought in and teased with images of a sanguine lifestyle.

“Suddenly your ability to understand their challenges improves exponentially, and consequently the enjoyment that you take from the experience also dramatically increases.”

Suddenly? Where did it “suddenly” come from? You don’t understand their challenges. You learn to bullshit just enough so that everyone (apart from your consulting colleagues) is mystified. The enjoyment only comes from having the knowledge that you know nothing and escaped, leaving the client thinking you had a true grasp of their challenges. Mr. Booz consultant 1, client 167.

“Unlike other firms, our consultants do not simply write a presentation from our offices in London, give it to the partner and let them present it to the client.”

No, you write presentations from their offices, expense the journey and related shenanigans and bill the client for it. The partner still does the presenting.

“Instead we get stuck in, working with the client’s in-house experts to come up with the most appropriate solution, tailoring our recommendations to the nuances of their situation.”

Tailoring involves little more than ensuring the correct client name has been appended to the standard deck.

“It is this breadth of service that makes your time at Booz Allen so special – one minute you are writing a high-level strategic recommendation for the CEO, and the next moment you are trying to implement it on the ground – which are both fantastic challenges.”

Simply put, no they are not. These are consulting lies at their best. You as an analyst won’t be writing much for the CEO. You as an analyst will be cursing all and sundry; from your firm, your colleagues, the CEO, his mother, mistress and daughter.

“The hours can be long, but there is no ‘face-time’ culture – when you are finished, you leave the office. Evenings away from home normally involve some sort of team dinner or activity, giving you a chance to discuss things other than ‘line 45 in Excel’; and this is the setting where some wonderful friendships are forged. The importance of team-bonding should never be underestimated, as it makes the work much easier - cultural and personal barriers are soon broken down over a Caesar salad and a bottle of Corona. If you are going to spend a considerable amount of time with your colleagues, then it is imperative that they are good people.”

The hours are very long, be prepared to cancel anything in your social calendar that could even remotely clash with the client and any of their requirements. There may be no explicit face-time culture, but you dare not leave at 6pm. You’ll find your team a collection A-type backstabbing wankers. Out of the office, you’re forced to engage with them as you don’t want the label of the social misfit. Even when you do meet up, you find you’re interests are so dissimilar that the discussion will eventually turn to ‘line 45 in Excel’ and for a lengthy period of time, longer than anyone should spend discussing Excel. You will be spending a lot of time with your team and you’ll curse the person responsible for staffing you on a project full of arseholes.

“Fortunately, and I say this with great sincerity, Booz Allen is crammed full of them.”

No dispute there, arseholes aplenty!

“With Wednesday or Thursday afternoon comes the return flight to London. Shoes off and laptop out for security, quick drink in the lounge, and recharge the body with an in-flight meal. Once back in London it is time to catch up with friends and loved ones. Booz Allen’s tremendous diversity of people is reflected in the variety of ways that they spend their free time.”

You won’t escape before Friday afternoon. Diversity means 60% Oxbridge, 30% Imperial/LSE with 10% from ‘international pastures’

“Despite the energy and enjoyment one takes from working with clients, Fridays tend to offer a much deserved change of pace in your home office. It provides the opportunity to catch up with colleagues (both socially and on internal issues), carry out many of the administrative tasks that cannot be done from the team room in Helsinki or wherever, and of course, enjoy the Friday evening drinks trolley…a lovely tradition that brings an end to the week in truly great fashion.”

The Friday evening drinks trolley is a sham. After spending the week with your “great” colleagues, you won’t want to spend any more time with them than is necessary. You’ll leave the office and drink yourself into a stupor to forget the week you’ve just had. Or an equally morose task of completing chores that you couldn’t attend to whilst on client site. The weekend rolls by far too quickly, Monday morning returns and the alarm clock wakes you from your temporary nirvana, you curse yourself and begin the cycle again.

Legitimate questions I’ve asked myself over the past 2 months.

Why does Paul (senior consultant) take a 12 minute break roughly the same time as Suzie (the admin assistant for this floor) disappear?

Why do I feel a sense of helplessness at approximately 10pm when I know I’ll be on site for at least another 3 hours and it’s been the same routine for the past 10 days?

Why are all projects like this? Is it not possible to manage time slightly better at the beginning to prevent these mad hours?

Are these hours are making me earn less than the cleaner in the meeting room across the corridor?

If I went to the top of the building with my (annoying) colleague, and pushed him off, would I be lauded for having done the right thing?

How many slides does it take to say that the client needs to diversify into emerging markets, leveraging their partnerships with firms in those markets?

When will I get the chance to “explore” HR Beauty in the senior partners office?

If I sit really still and not say anything if asked a question, will people think I’m invisible? [This was towards the tail-end of an 80+ hour week, my mind was, well, in a place of it's own]

I wonder if you can beat a CFO to death with a 5 sheets of paper which have spreadsheet figures printed on them.

At what point will I stop caring about how Porter’s doesn’t apply in this case and want to shoot myself? [At approx 21.27 on day 2 of the engagement]

Can I expense 100 tins of tuna and get away with it? [Ultimately, yes!]

In order to maintain my sanity in the high pressure and oft manic environment in which I am employed, I meet up with a few non-work friends at least once every three weeks or so (owing to our various highly stressful career choices, meeting more frequently is not possible).

We recently decided to convene in a bar not far from Old Street. Co-incidentally, my friend’s colleague and good friend (let’s call him Neil) was at the same bar. We invited him and a few of his cohorts to join us. The evening was going well, we’d ordered a few drinks, complained about our respective roles (including 2 Investment Bankers worried about job security, another consultant protesting his incessant travelling to regions of the UK that time forgot) and bemoaned our current situations, longing for a return to the relatively carefree life at Uni, all interspersed with various jibes and good-natured taunts.

 
After a few hours (and a few of Neil’s group had left) there were only a handful of us left and the tone had quietened somewhat. The conversation (naturally?) turned to sex and details of our latest conquests (I, being the gentleman that I am omitted details of my continued dealings with HR Beauty). There was the usual bravado regarding the speed with which women would fall at our feet and the “servicing” we gave them at our respective residences. It was at this point that Neil leant in and said, “The weirdest thing happened to me a few weeks back. I was with this girl that I’ve been seeing for a few months. I’d been out drinking with some friends, but arranged to stay at her place for the night. I wasn’t wasted, but far from sober. I got back to hers and started going at it. However, this is where it gets weird, almost immediately; all I could thing of was finance”. I gave him a look of disbelief and said “how do you mean, finance?” He said, “You know, finance, EBITDA, DCF, valuations, models, Excel. It totally put me off”.

We roared with laughter. Realising he wouldn’t be getting words of comfort/sympathy from us, he tried to save face. “I’ve been working crazy hours on my new project. It’s an FS project and I’ve had to pick up the concepts lightening quick”.

The excuse was inadequate. A friend of mine retorted “Bullshit mate, we’re you even able to keep it up? Excel sheets, models and EBITDA aren’t the kind of things that get me aroused or keep my little soldier awake”.

What followed was over in half a second, but that was long enough to recognize it. Neil paused. His next words were drowned in our laughter. He tried his best to deny any hints that his manhood could fail him because of EBITDA figures, but we weren’t buying it.

 

Neil is now known as “floppy EBIT”.

“Is it really so bad to sleep around? I’m a man, men are supposed to spread their seed far and wide. I love [my girlfriend] but I see her on average one weekend every 3 weeks. It doesn’t help that Joanna is so amazingly hot.”

“Valentines stuff?! Not me mate. We’re out for drinks tonight. I’m buying. I know that bitch likes a free drink or two. Get her wasted then do as I please. Pictures and video clips are also on the agenda.”

“My wife? I couldn’t give two shits about her. I know she is probably out to dinner with Mark, a neighbour. Valentines day is all about spoiling your mistress. The wife had years of that. She’s too old to enjoy it properly.”

“What am I doing this evening? The client is Satan; I’m stuck in the office. I seriously think the wife will be considering divorce now. This is the 4th successive Valentines Day I’ve cancelled on her. Actually, do you know a good florist that’ll deliver in 2 hours?”

“Emma needs a stiff one inside her. I was speaking to her earlier and she says she actually prefers to work as late as possible tonight. She isn’t ugly, so I have no idea where that came from.”

“I’d rather have a mountain of chocs than a man on Valentines day. Men are too awkward and are intimidated by me.
It’s probably cause you bear a striking resemblance to the woman on the right

“Valentines Day sucks. I might turn gay for a few weeks to confuse everyone.”
This is the man countless executives pay serious cash for to advise on their issues. A man with this logic should not be in employment in anything other than the fried chicken shops that litter the east-end of London

“I wish my girlfriend would break up with me. I spend approximately £400 every Valentines day and all I get in return is a lasagne (not even a steak) and a half-arsed blow job.“

“I don’t care about anything anymore. I’m slowly losing the will to live.”

The Evil Crackberry

I know my days are numbered when:

• I see a dear old lady on the tube playing with her Blackberry and smiling merrily.

• The majority of 2nd year analysts and a significant number of 1st year analysts own one. I’m now in the minority.

• My desire to have a new “toy” increases ever so slightly.

• My manager has insisted I order one next year.