It’s 2005. I vaulted the fence breathlessly as my pursuers maintained the foot chase. “Ay come back here bruv!”, but I knew that no good would come from stopping for the two youts who had been robbing anything of worth from students all week. My bag swung and jerked on my shoulders; I held it steady and hopped the low wall but as I took the next left I could hear them getting closer. “There’s a short cut out this estate”, I thought. If I could just make it to the high fence past the football cages, I could squeeze through the gaps. “You’re making it worse for yourself!” one of them barked as I dodged an old woman carrying her shopping, only to hear him clatter into her “argh get out the way!”. I stole the quickest look over my bobbing bag as her shopping went flying and she was sent reeling. “Stop man, what have I done to you!”, my voice cracked as the words came out…
It’s 2009. It’s cold, I’m in the local park at 9PM, I knew it was 9PM because the park keeper was ushering the last few people out of the gate before turning to me. “Are you sure you’re okay mate?” I guess I did look a bit lost. “I’m fine thanks, my mum should be here soon to pick me up”. In reality, I had no home for that night with only a half charged phone and text books to my name…
It’s 2012. I’m in an interview room trying to figure out what a balance sheet is, before having to decipher Amazon’s annual statement and pitch it for the biggest internship of my life. “This woman is going to crucify me”, I thought, as she entered the room eyeing me shrewdly. “So you’ve had some time to asses it, what do you think of the stock?”. I paused, wondering how I should best phrase this. “From what I’ve looked at, I don’t see a reason why you’re not buying the hell out of these shares” sounding as matter of factly as a seasoned stock broker. “Really! You sound pretty convinced?” Surprise replacing her previously pursed features. “Well you see…” I retorted without hesitation “I’ve done a bit of work going through the numbers and I think it’s a no brainer…”
It’s August 2013. I’m exhausted, but it’s the end of the summer internship. I’m as exhilarated as I am clueless. Do they like me? What if I don’t get in? Do I even want to work in a bank? There were so many good interns… Fuck it, nothing I can do about it now. I’m just happy to go back to uni, back to a normal sleeping pattern again, back my usual fried chicken and not the rabbit food I’d been on for the last 8 weeks. It was an awesome experience whatever happened, I can genuinely be proud of what I’ve achieved regardless of the outcome. It would be sick if they wanted me though…
It’s September 2013. Shock, bewilderment. I’m trying to process what I’ve just been told. “You want to offer me the job?” I asked for the second time. “That’s right. I mean by all means take some time to think about it but we really think you’re the best fit”. I almost chewed her arm off the receiver, “I’ll take it” trying to keep some level of composure whilst slowing dawning on the fact that my life had changed for good…
Today. This is The Poor Banker or PB for short, a blog by a millennial from a council estate who stumbled through the back door into the big, bad banking world. If the story seems like a bad reboot of a Will Smith movie, then it kind of is. Except I’m from the concrete jungle that is South London (and thankfully never slept in a public bog). Now I’m living in a world where I’m occupying two bubbles, council estate kid and corporate climber. So I’m sharing it, and hopefully it connects people, through some cracking stories, a bit of social commentary and bits of financial advice that actually makes sense to the average bloke and blokette, The Poor Banker is here for it all.
The Poor Banker
The Poor Banker 