R's one of the toughest guys I know in banking, with phenomenal endurance (as he needs to be, since he's the only analyst supporting an inverse-pyramid hierarchy): very often I'd arrive at the office around 9am to see him typing furiously with a bowl of half-eaten muesli in between him and the computer screen, often with an MD standing behind him. Then early in the mornings at around 3am I'd leave the office to see him still typing furiously away, looking increasingly like a crossbreed between a beardless and jetlagged 关公 and a Sichuan panda.
Like a lot of hard-driving type A personalities, R has a tremendous drive associated with high testosterone levels. This extends to the fairer sex.
Now, at this point, I could go on as per the banker stereotypes, about how R objectifies women, and treats them like the rugby balls he used to run after as a rugby player, etc. But I happen to know that R is actually a very decent guy at heart: this is a guy who is working in a bank not for yet-another-branded-bag, but to support his siblings through college. With his friends, he immediately makes everyone comfortable with his laugh, which is loud enough to make a mother hyena proud, and he is fiercely loyal. Beneath the jaded banker veneer beats a very human heart.
Emotionally, his relationship with women has been rocky. Well, it's been rocky for the women in question: for him, there was no question that he didn't really like them enough. Which he felt very guilty about in a survivor-guilt sort of way. But he had the guts to own up to it, and to act before things got even worse.
So it came as a surprise to hear R talking about his latest lady (over a beer, of course). After he went on for about five minutes, I started laughing. It began as a slight chortle... then grew into a full fledged belly laugh that had R stopping midsentence: ".... what's so funny mate?"
Me: -wiping tears- ".... ah..... it's just.... just that.... you're GUSHING man... I've never imagined I'd ever hear you GUSHING about someone!"
The prospect of R waxing lyrical about a girl was about as likely as Arnold Schwarzenegger waxing poetry about an organically grown flower ("... mein Luff ist like a rot, rot Rose....").
Yet there R was, this hardened banker who had previously gone through women like used Kleenex, now completely besotted like a high school girl waiting for Brad Pitt to arrive at the airport. There was something sweet about it, about how he was so earnest about her, so I apologized.
"No it's ok man... I tell you, this is the first girl I've really really liked in a while. It feels good to ACTUALLY FEEL something man. Previously, with the other girls, i really didn't feel that much. But dude, this girl has really made me fall for her... it's like the first time I've really fallen for someone in a long time. It's good to know I can still feel man."
I mentioned how, in HK, even though we're surrounded by people, it often felt insanely lonely. People just get drunk and hook up, when in reality they probably really just want to lessen the loneliness.
"Yeah! Dude, I just spent a few days on leave in HK, and it was crazy lonely man, because ALL my friends are at work! About the girls in my past, well, I hooked up for sex. I know, it's wrong, I'm going to hell.... but hey, the girl wants company too, so it's a fair trade between us. But you know, after a while and after a few times, something just feels fucking wrong about it...
I dunno man, I think it's just something about Hong Kong, about how people just come and go, treating the place and the people like a revolving door. This place just ENCOURAGES short-term thinking and behaviour man! Stuff like going to Privé to hook up with the hottest available chick who throws herself at you, or making out with someone at a house party after five minutes and waking up half naked on a sofa in a place you've never been before, next to a girl whose name you don't remember... "
Well, I said, it's probably a combination of Hong Kong, with its close physical proximity, and all the excessive disposable income available to bankers who have no time.
"Yeah, well, I'm trying to go after this girl as it's not about a transaction this time round... I mean, dude, I REALLY like this girl. Yeah, the deal's nowhere close to completion, but you know, she's worth the potential heartbreak. It's worth the heartbreak to find out that I have a heart."
I could only smile, and wish him happiness.
In the end, the Tin Man found his heart.
(Terminology:
MD=Managing Director. On a case-by-case basis, it can also stand for "mega dickhead"
Privé= Club in Hong Kong, at Lan Kwai Fong below Dragon-I. Both clubs are frequented by bankers.)
(Disclaimer: R is a composite sketch of a few characters, so you can say he does or does not exist.)
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