Who knew it was possible to take so much pleasure in watching people banter and brawl and have panic attacks over stuff that means absolutely nothing to you?, launching into season two August 1—is something I don’t care about. I mean literally that it’s. The young brokers and analysts spit industry jargon at approximately a million words per minute: a mind-bending barrage of futures and shorts and positioning that’s pureto me, as abstract and alien as the subatomic realm of quarks and neutrinos.
Both established traders and the Pierpont managers charged with training and monitoring the new recruits live in a constant state of paranoid anxiety about their quarterly performance; they spend their days cosseting elite clients who might be flight risks. The fast-churn lifestyle demands release, and it’s found in drugs and alcohol, eruptions of rage, badinage so brutal it’s basically hazing, and raunchy sex that shreds the rules about not mixing business and pleasure.
The core group includes Yasmin , a smart and sensual woman from a wealthy Middle Eastern family who gets treated like an errand girl by a male supervisor who can’t see past her chic surface; Robert , a working class white boy who’d rather sniff coke and sext Yasmin than study markets; and Gus , a Ghanian-British Etonian who studied classics at Oxford and quickly finds the financial world unfulfilling.
Joypress That does not sound appealing at all
Joypress It’s awful. Beyond parody.
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