I've met an investment banker. Not sure how good an investor he is seeing as I met him on the bus. Plonking myself down one day I accidentally sat on his jacket and nearly strangled him. The next day I happened to sit down behind him. The fox, being utterly unable to even read an e-mail on the bus without feeling decidedly ill, admires anyone who can (a) read a novel or (b) work on a laptop while on the bus. Mr. IB was working on his laptop. Hmm. Now while I have developed an uncanny inability to read small print right in front of my face, I can read e-mails very well from 10' feet away. So I check out what he is doing. And he's buying, and selling, and holding. Hmm, he could hold me if he liked.
But, later that night while I'm waiting at the bus exchange, who gets off the bus and gazes right into my eyes, yes, Mr. IB. Maybe tomorrow I'll say hello. Maybe.
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