Prematurely Gray

At twenty four, I'm what my hair stylist dearly refers to as salt and pepper, but I'm afraid that by my 25th birthday I will be completely gray. Part of my job description reads: interact with financial scum of the universe on a daily basis. As if that wasn't bad enough, I'm baffled by how these assholes could be trusted with others' monies, dreams, and financial health. It's really astonishing that they have no idea what's going on. I'm convinced 90% of these stock jockeys trade based off of "Cramer's Picks." I love breaking their balls on a day when they think the world is coming to an end:

S.A.: Hey Jim, how's it going?
Jim: The market is down 340 points. The good thing is this could be a great opportunity for a bear market rally.

These slightly-evolved chimps stare at the tape all day long hoping to see triple bottoms (and trying to convince themselves that certain technical charts look like a woman's breasts), and haven't realized that it's not the equity markets that people should fear. It's the credit markets and the immeasurable derivatives exposure that will ultimately be the demise of the global "financial machine." Now I could try to explain to these idiots that the Dow and the S&P are really quite inconsequential in the grand scheme of things (just based on the sheer amount of assets), but they would never listen because Ludlow hasn't mentioned it on CNBC yet. I won't make a peep though, because nobody likes a cocky, piss-ant, 24 year old.