The first and only time I had a microphone ripped from my hand was while speaking to a Goldman Sachs summer MBA class. It was held at an eclectic restaurant in Chelsea. Very casual — dinner and drinks, talk shop for 15 to 20 minutes and then a Q&A. No problem. The firm had asked me to present to their, big-brained kids pretending to be interested in what I was saying. I knew the drill. They were used to an hour or two of "Bond Math" or the A to Z in product courses they were forced to sit through — emphasis on the Z's.

Maybe it was the shots of tequila at the bar, but the urge to tell them what they weren't going to hear from their famous author faculty back at school was tempting. The truth would be refreshing, I thought. But I ended up keeping it PG-13. I mean, it was Goldman Sachs after all. When I wrapped up my speech I noticed a raised hand in the back of the room. The question came from a young man wearing glasses. "If I'm your broker and I want to increase my business with your hedge fund, what's the best thing for me to do?"