Sorry to bother you, Mr. B. But something happened this morning I thought you should know about.
What is it Selig? A leak in the piping? I hope my Stall #8 hasn’t been flooded.
No, sir. Nothing that serious. It was just that guy who came by this morning. I don’t know who he was, but he said he was here to install gun mounts over the sinks and toilet bowls.
Oh that. No need to worry. He was authorized. Something new we’re offering our staffers. For their protection.
Protection? From what, sir?
Crazed investors. Fanatical terrorists. That sort of thing. Can’t be too careful these days, Selig.
Everyone is doing it. Have you heard about that Republican Convention in Tampa, Florida this June?
Yes, sir. Word about it has filtered down to the washroom.
Well, Selig, they’re allowing concealed handguns in the area around the convention site. In some parts of the country you can also carry concealed weapons in bars and schools. So why not have them in the toilet stalls of an investment bank?
When you put it that way, Mr. B., I can see the logic. And I guess anyone who really understands the Constitution would have to conclude the Founding Fathers wanted everyone to have loaded guns at political gatherings, in bars and schools. Very prudent. But in Wall Street washrooms? I don’t know. I mean…
What exactly do you mean, Selig? What’s the problem?
Well, Mr. B., some Wall Street traders who come into washrooms are kind of… sort of… hyper. Overwrought. You know. Losing a few hundred million of other people’s money on a bond bet upsets them.
No reason to get upset over that, Selig.
You’re right, of course, Mr. B. But some traders respond by taking strong stimulants to help get them through the day. And when you combine that with guns you sometimes…
Strong stimulants, Selig? You mean cups of strong, heavily caffeinated coffee.
Of course, sir. What else could I possibly mean?
What else indeed, Selig.
Don’t get me wrong, Mr. B. I’m not saying that anyone, for any reason, most certainly not a highly stimulated trader, should not have ready access to a handgun. Or assault rifle. Or machine pistol. Or a bazooka or hand grenade if that’s what self defense requires. Only that in a Wall Street washroom it might cause occasional difficulties.
Say no more, my good man. Be assured this is only a temporary arrangement. The election coming up in November obliges Wall Streeters to make certain alliances to keep the country from going still further in the wrong direction.
You mean toward socialism, sir?
Yes. There. Big banks and gun super-enthusiasts will have to vote the same side to beat back the socialist beast. And if that means guns above sinks and toilet bowls, what the heck. We go along for a while, after November, the guns disappear. Does that make you happy?
Anything that promotes the interests of investment banks makes me happy, sir. Your own Stall #8 is ready, by the way. And the man who came by this morning left a sample gun for you to play with… I mean for you to inspect. I think he called it a ‘MAC-10,’ along with a few banana clips of armor piercing ammo.
Splendid, Selig. Splendid. Forty-round banana clips with armor piercing bullets, you say?
For self-defense, sir. Just give me a few seconds warning before you actually lock and load. I have a family.
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