Thursday night. Rain falling.
We were sitting around a low table with our backs to floor to ceiling windows overlooking Columbus Circle.
It was too early in the evening for the crowd at Stone Rose Lounge to be drinking as much as they were. To be having this much fun. It was, after all, only Thursday.
But everyone around us was smiling, chatting away. Even as Greece threatens to pull down Europe, everyone's bonuses had been slashed, and Iran's nuclear ambitions loom large, young New York financial professionals still manage to cut loose over cocktails. Or, perhaps, after enough cocktails they can forget Greece, they can forget their vanishing bonuses.
"Let's play Banker/Lawyer," I said.
"What is Banker/Lawyer?" the blond girl sitting beside me said.
"You pick people out of the crowd and decide whether they are bankers or lawyers," I said.
The girls started looking around. They wanted to play.
They didn't know that I am really, really good at Banker/Lawyer. I have FinDar. I can almost always figure out who works for a lawfirm and who works in finance.
It's a social game. After you've made your decision about someone, you then have to actually talk to them to find out whether you got it right.
"That group over there: lawyers," I said.
"How can you tell?" the tall brown-haired girl with big eyes said.
"It's too co-ed. They obviously all work together. The guy-girl ratio is nearly even. This does not happen with investment bankers," I explained.
And so we peered across Stone Rose Lounge together, our backs against the rain covered glass, preparing to divide the crowd of young, good looking, wealthy lads and lasses into neat categories.
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