Day Four

I was very busy and important today, with two projects due by 5 pm and one due ASAP from the start of the day. I ended up saying no to one of the 5 pm projects, which I hear you can only do when you're a summer associate, and the other one I worked steadily on throughout the day when I wasn't fielding phone calls from associates with "tiny little comments" on the ASAP project and trying to pin down other associates for the remaining piece of the document.

The ASAP project was a kind of equity derivatives/capital markets/Mighty Big Investment Bank money-making instrument type of thing. I can't describe it because I don't know the lingo, even though I understood the general principle, and anyway, it's way confidential and secret and stuff, and I'd have to KILL you if you knew.

I got to send the final product out under my own signature, to the Mighty Big Investment Bank and the team at the firm, and it was -- whatever. I'm just not moved by making money, or helping companies make money. Too abstract for me. (I have to say, though, that the basic instrument was more interesting than I thought it would be.)

The other 5 pm project was a real estate department assignment, which I enjoyed, because I loved property and it was something I understood, rather than this totally foreign language of finance and securities and shit.

I left at 5:45 to go to a cooking class and dinner hosted by the firm. A group of about 30 took the subway down (at rush hour, I presume, it would be madness to take cabs) to the southern tip of the island. In Times Square, I almost changed my mind and took the uptown train, because I was feeling antisocial and tired, but I soldiered on, and was glad for it in the end.

Why was I glad? Because after the schmoozing and the drinks, we went into the kitchen and gathered around metal tables like you see in professional kitchens, in groups of five, and we learned stuff. The woman who was teaching our group (we made one of the sides -- roasted red peppers and rice with tomato/garlic/smoked paprika coulis) was very cool, and showed us how to handle knives, how to cut an onion, how to unwrap garlic cloves, how to cut basil. What was really interesting was how everything has a scientific reason -- for example, in order to chop up basil, you roll up a couple individual leaves and cut against the grain, because otherwise, it tends to oxidize quicker and you get that blackened look. In order to cut down the smokiness of a dish, you can add something acidic, like red wine vinegar. To get a nice roasted red pepper, you can plop it right on the gas burner, char it, then put it in a plastic bag, let it steam, and then rub the blackened skin off with paper towels. And supposedly, you can get some of the garlic and onion smell off your hands by handling metal.

Very cool stuff.

So the learning was good -- I liked that. We got firmly pushed out of the kitchen and into the dining room so the chefs could finish up properly, and then it was dinnertime: tomato and parmesan gratinee tarts, crispy chicken breasts stuffed with spinach and goat cheese, the aforementioned rice dish, crisp lemony green beans and carrots, and a chocolate cake with chocolate mint fudge. Mm! So the dinner itself was good too.

Dinner as a social outing was less successful. I think I was at a dud table (and I take full responsibility too as part of the dud-ness), because other tables seemed to be chatty and talky, but ours dragged. I was reminded of why I like talking to people my age -- and especially men my age -- rather than younger folks: especially for the men, age brings a realization that there's more to dinner conversation than sports. Every single goddam topic was about sports, even though a good four members of the table (out of 9) were clearly not into it and didn't say a word. It was a bit excruciating.

It's not that these people aren't interesting -- I mean, the guy sitting next to me, who was going on about playing soccer with some big pro player -- he mentioned he liked making pottery, and had taken two classes. That's interesting! Whereas sports? Eh.

So I'm biased. And it'll work against me, in this atmosphere -- in order to get ahead in a male-dominated field, you gotta talk the talk, you know? It's depressing.

So in sum: Mighty Big Investment Bank work = very busy and important hk today; learning and cooking = jollity and fun; and 25-year-olds who only talk about sports = boring. But hey, I got a free cab ride home, so that makes up for everything. Except for the fact that my hands still smell like garlic. Must go find some metal to handle.

Hey, isn't it funny that a week ago, I was studying for con law?