Here's the latest from our Highly Placed Professional.
I used to have a boss in the States who had all the clients, and all the luck in the world. He was a pretty nice guy, but we all hated him. We'd often say that if he stepped on a dog turd his boot would come up with a diamond stuck to its sole.
He'd greet us in the morning, and I'm talking really early even by market standards, and mention airily that 'we' (meaning him) had just made an outlandish amount of sales credits on some sophisticated trade executed overnight with one of his clients. So we'd start the day gnashing our teeth and feeling like mere mortals, or rather common pikers, compared to his magnificence.
Of course this chap didn't have a name like Rich Ricci, and he wasn't a CEO, board member, Jedi Knight and keen follower of the turf. So let's get to why I hate people like Ricci Rich - however nice they are, however much charitable stuff they do, however stalwart pillars of the community they are.
Call it jealousy, sour grapes and the rest, but I just can't get my head round people who run 50 races horses at £25,000 a year each, and who wear bright green tweed suits to a race meeting where their horses invariably win! I don't think I'm the only one who gnashes their teeth when they hear of the eye-watering sums that this guy made at Barclays.
We all know that if you get into management and your career goes orbital, the rewards are there, but there's a sense that firms like Barclays wrapped up their top players in cotton wool, like some sort of super exclusive club. Whatever the risks these chosen few took, whatever the losses (or profits) the bank made, these guys would always mint it. And guess what - once the hard times were behind them, even if they hadn't made out like bandits, they'd still have tons of stock options to exercise, just to be able to order another private jet.
The City is a place where successful professionals can earn more than just a good income, but it also has its risks, and careers can falter at the drop of a hat. Maybe that's why I hate the Ricci Rich's of our world. They are so financially bomb proof that they almost don't need to care, whereas most of us sit there with our tongues lolling out of our mouths as we scrape and scrabble for the next trade.
Look carefully at a photograph of our Rich, and you might just see a glitter of genial contempt in his gaze. He's made it so big he can even afford to call one of his horses FatCatInAHat. And that's the reason I hate him!