NEW YORK--Hundreds of well-heeled mourners gathered yesterday on the one-year anniversary of perhaps the city's greatest tragedy in a generation: the collapse of Lehman Brothers. A steady drizzle covered the ceremony, held at the now vacant 7th Ave headquarters, from start to finish.
Attendees fought back tears as the names of several hundred investment bankers lost in the collapse were read aloud. A single trading bell rang out at the precise minute when employees of the global financial services giant were herded into the building's main conference room and summarily dismissed.
A small pile of monogrammed gym bags, famous for being used to smuggle out personal affects and pilfered office supplies last year, was arranged on the sidewalk as an impromptu tribute to the fallen. A small fire, fueled by $100 Monopoly bills, burned unwaveringly throughout the affair. Off in the corner a novelty desktop drinking bird comically bobbed and dipped it's beak into a glass full of Veuve Clicquot, in solemn remembrance of the fallen.
The ceremony was not exclusively somber, however. The crowd was not without light-hearted quips about grabbing dinner at Per Se and planning a weekend jaunt to the Hamptons. One mourner was heard to sarcastically complain about being unable to fold his wallet due to "All of these fucking Franklins."
The organizers had hoped to announce the preliminary plans for a monument to honor those that had sacrificed their jobs so bravely and unwillingly. The installation, a $1.2 billion dollar Frank Gehry deconstructivist representation of a desk nameplate with the names of the fallen and their net worth, both pre and post Lehman, inscribed on the front, was scrapped when the memorial fund money was mistakenly invested into a mortgage backed security. Those on the monument building committee had noted that they hoped the government would step in "as the free market intended," to provide funding for such an important memorial to what was certainly New York's most tragic day in over a decade.
After the ceremony had concluded, several former employees, all of whom are now in law school, gathered and revived "Sodomize the Pensioner," one of their favorite drinking games from the heady days of unchecked global financial greed.
"I don't think anyone will ever forget where they were when this happened," said former investment banker Todd Llewelyn III, who was let go by Lehman one year ago yesterday. "The magnitude of this tragedy will define an entire Harvard and Yale graduating class. Maybe even a few people from Brown. We will forever remember this as 'The Day In Which We Were All Minorly Inconvenienced Just Because We Collapsed the World Economy'."
"Christ," he reminisced, tears welling up in his eyes. "I still remember one of my fellow junior level execs having to go ask his father for a $250,000 loan just to tide him over the final two weeks of September, after which he would begin his new job at Barclay's. It still haunts me to this day. I faced my own shame, having to slink back to my father's private London investment firm to humbly accept a CFO position. But it's made me a stronger, better person. Well, a stronger person. Actually, let's just say I am still recognizable as a person using standard societal definitions and leave it at that."
As the sun dipped behind a rain cloud, casting the scene in a gray pallor, representatives from New York City stepped forward to commemorate the day and comfort those who are still forced to live solely on their trust funds, one year after the fact.
Speaking to the assembled unemployed, Mayor Michael Bloomberg declared, "These are a resilient people. And while the pain of this tremendous loss still lingers, so too does the resolve of the entitled, over-educated, greedy pricks who fucked the global economy. Never let the tragic events of a year ago dissuade you from creating the new arcane financial instruments and investment bubbles in other exploitable areas. Go forth with the knowledge that this couldn't possibly ever happen again."
As the assembled masses broke out into applause, several drivers and personal assistants were instructed to light and raise their lighters in solidarity. One man was thought to have said "never again", but after he was confronted by several former bankers, he explained that he meant "never again would he allow himself to be scapegoated for problems he caused" and not "never again would he dangerously leverage securities and credit default swaps in a reckless manner."
After this clarification was made, a roar went up from the crowd before they all dispersed to attend Fashion Week after-parties.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
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