To the post-ISDA reception party at The Supperclub, sponsored by ICAP, that is. And I didn’t.
Actually, Mama had nothing to do with it. I am a Poor Richard, early to bed, early to rise kind of guy; healthy (yes), wealthy (well, comfortable), and wise (Streetwise, anyways ). That, plus the 2 hour time difference meant that the party began well after my normal, CT bedtime. So, while the daring ones were headed to the Supperclub, I headed back to the hotel for some shuteye.
The linked article says suggests that the fin de siecle decadence which I had not seen was not entirely absent. (This definitely NOT work friendly article suggests that even more strongly.)
All which provides further reason, as if further reason was needed, why I became a professor, rather than a banker.
Update: A reliable eyewitness tells me that the NYT story was more than a little exaggerated for effect. The back room was empty, the dominatrix flix were nowhere to be seen, and in the main, it was just “a bunch of geeks dancing.” And probably talking about Greeks.