Dear JP Morgan/Chase, Bank of America, Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, AIG, CitiBank, etc., etc., et. al.,
I hear some of your executives are none too keen on the idea of working for an annual salary of $500,000 or less. Well, I've got half a word for you all:
Yo.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Looking at me, you're saying to yourself, "This man doesn't look successful. Where's his three-piece suit and $600 haircut? Why, he's not even wearing shoes at all!" Well, don't choke on your $25,000 hot fudge and gold-shaving covered sundae just yet, John D. Robafella, because there's a lot I can offer your company.
Namely, I don't cost millions. Just a half a million a year will do just fine. And I absolutely guarantee that I will not fuck things up more than they already are. How does that sit with you, my Wall Street Capt. Jack Sparrow?
Even if I wanted to defraud the company's stockholders, pilfer away valuable contracts and piss money down my leg on expensive trips and merchandise, I wouldn't even know how! Do I look like someone who's been inside a Neiman Marcus? I don't even know whether Smith Barney is a financial services company or just a place that sells nice suits.
Who the hell am I going to talk to about insider trading? I'm not the kind of guy who has those connections, or even knows a guy who does. I'd have to go to Wikipedia first to really even understand the process.
I have the haircut of an honest man. It cost me $10 plus tip. It was cut by a young lady who has never left her hometown. On the Monopoly board, I'm pure Baltic Avenue. And for you, that means profits. More money you can keep for yourselves!
Sure, you could hire some Cornell grad with a sterling set of recommendations and blood that's bluer than a Superintelligent Shade of the Color Blue, or you could hire me, a yokel that your headhunters wouldn't bring in to you if I had a gun to their heads. A gun that shoots other guns. Think about it.
Hiring me will save you a fortune in bonuses and salaries, and unlike these whiny, well-fed white breads with their solid gold toilets and ivory towers, I'm not going to run off and cry to the Wall Street Journal about the sadness of my fucking plight.
You give a guy like that $50 million, what does he do? He gets greedy and winds up stealing more. I'm not going to do that. $500K is all I'll ever need, and an adult life of clipping coupons will make me appreciate it in a way that these Gordon Gekko wannabes never will.
Stocks? Benefits? Bonuses? Paid vacations? What are those? Just give me $500,000 a year and you won't hear a damn thing from me. I'll just sit in a corner office quietly, making paper airplanes out of pages torn out of "Fortune" magazine, and you can get back to ruining your company in whatever way you see fit.
Do we have a deal? Shake on it.
If we don't have a deal, then I've got a great investment opportunity for you. For the nominal sum of $500,000, I'll reinvest your funds in my pyramid scheme triangle plan for a 2,000 percent guaranteed return on your investment in five days!