The King of Queens

Well well people. Another week down and another weekend chock full of sightseeing, social outings and general ocker behaviour (at last count I've said 'mate' 42,349 times since arriving).

Have been working on a hedge fund audit up on 57th St. Both here and in Australia there are managed funds which your everyday Mum and Dad investors put small amounts of their hard earned into in the hope of some meager return after they've paid all the management fees. Hedge funds in the US are essentially the same except:
1. they are not publicly listed;
2. you need to know someone who knows someone;
3. be able to invest a truckload of money;
4. be willing to pay unreasonable fees to the fund manager
(1% of funds under mgt and 20% of profit);
5. BUT expect to receive a return well above market rates.

In a way, these hedge funds seem to reflect the American society I am bearing witness to. Money talks here more than anywhere in the world. It was an eye-opening experience sitting in this "Trader's" office whilst analysts ran around barking instructions on selling short and buying long. I must watch Wall Street again sometime soon. Gordon Gecko and his mantra of "greed is good" would not have been out of place there. The contrast was stark when I left work for the day and unwittingly skipped over a homeless man lying in a doorway just two doors down. The ever-widening socio-economic rift between the middle and lower classes could not have been more heavily underlined.

Making the journey uptown was not without it hiccups. Usually in possession of an excellent sense of bearings, the New York subway played havoc with this confused young Aussie. After studying the maps the night previous, I was confident I had determined the most efficient route - take the L to 6th Ave and then an R to 57th. My timing on the first morning was off but I got there ok. As I was a little late, the effervescent graduate on the assignment made it his priority to help me out - advising a express Q train would get me there quicker and more direct.

The next morning I boarded the Q in the expectation of a trouble free journey. Stations whizzed by as expected given this was an express. Foolishly I immersed myself in the New York Times - gleaning as much local news as I could during the anticipated 8 minute ride. I became concerned when the train had failed to stop by the time I hit the news section (as I read the paper from back (ie sport) to front). The fuzzy announcement came across the speakers "Next stop : Queens Plaza". I had caught some super express to Queens. Queens!!! I had to wait 30 minutes for the next Manhattan bound train and was over an hour late.

I now refer to that train as the Far Q line.

Happy Australia Day.

Go Bagdhatis!!!