“You ever wanna get out of this business?” It was 1992, my third year working at Fanelli’s. Though the money was the best I had made at a legit job—having always worked in some capacity at a bar or club—the money was never going to get significantly better. More concerning, my wife Alex had recently given birth to our daughter, Vesna. I really did not wish to have my daughter grow up with a dad whose profession was feeding people booze. So, the answer to the question was, “Yeah. You got something in mind?”
The customer asking was a regular named Phil. He filled me in that he had just started a limited coffee trading firm composed of three guys and was looking to take on someone who could do the backroom reconciling of the trades made during the hours made on the trading floor, which appropriately was referred to as “the pit”. was open. The hours were between 9:30 am to 3 pm, and being Monday to Friday, there was only a slight problem as I worked the bar at Fanelli’s Thursday through Sunday nights. Phil had observed me adding up drinks in my head rapidly amid the turmoil of the crowded bar. The skills in the coffee pit were similar, except it involved much larger sums.
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