-actly what it is doing. It’s falling hard because there isn’t anyone who wantsto buy it.”
“Supply and demand,” I offered.
“Exactly,” he continued. “No one wanted to buy Pounds for the firsttwo or three minutes. Then when it had fallen a good 200 points, it re-bounded slightly, as traders who were already short going into the reportclosed their positions by buying back Pounds and selling U.S. Dollars. Youcan see this happening on a short-term chart, like a five-minute. Even aone-minute, like you were talking about. You can see the price fall fast andthen rebound suddenly.”
“And the rebound showed some interest in buying the Pound again.”
“And that’s when I sold it. I sold all of it that I could.”
“Where did you get out?” I asked.
“Oh, I was out fifteen minutes later. That was it for me. I didn’t tradeagain that day.”
“This sounds much like what you did on the FOMC interest rate deci-sion.”
“Yep. I follow a similar method all the time, really. It has worked for mevery well.”
This was the time when it was appropriate to ask Craig how much hehad made.
“How much did you make?”
“Well, I did 100 points. Which was an excellent—a very excellent—NFP day for me.”
It was odd. When he spoke about his own gains, it wasn’t about themoney. It was about the points or pips that he had made. Another flood ofquestions came to mind. This was either going to be a four-hour phone callor I was simply not going to get all the answers I wanted.
 
  
 
86 ADVENTURES OF A CURRENCY TRADER
This was exactly the reason that I wanted to meet with him again inperson, and his mentor, to learn more about short-term trading. So mucheasier. The excitement of trading the economic news appealed to me, ofcourse. But the thought that I could make a pile of money in a half hourand be done for the day—that was overwhelming.
“I’m surprised you kept yourself from trading when you saw the Non-Farm Payroll reaction,” Craig remarked.
I grinned and said, “I didn’t have a computer or a phone with me. Icouldn't trade.”
“Well, it’s all the same anyway. They’ll have another Non-Farm Payrollreport next month.”
“And I'll be ready for that one. Did everyone at your firm trade it likethat?” I asked.
“No. One guy got full of himself and started selling the U.S. Dollaragainst the Yen. He was totally out of his mind, talking about how the reac-tion to the jobs report was ridiculous and that he had a tip from a big WallStreet trader that the dollar was going to sell off big time, and that the Non-Farm Payroll reaction was a perfect time to take advantage of the idiotswho were buying dollars. And then he said that the USD/JPY had to fall atleast 200 to 300 points from the high of the day.”
“Did he lose a lot of money?”
“Oh, yes,” Craig answered. “In fact, he left his trades open and then leftfor the day. He didn’t want to look at the trades any longer.”
“He is allowed to do that?” I asked. “Seems like he could get fired fordoing that.”
“He’s got a leash,” Craig replied with a chuckle. “He can only lose somuch and then the firm closes his trades. He’s allowed a certain amount ofleeway. They used to call it a Daylight Limit, although around here it’scalled a Net Asset Value Calculation, and for short it’s called Net NAV.”
“But shouldn’t someone step in and get him out of the trade before itgets worse?” Talking about this guy made me think about my FOMC trade,and how I wished that someone would have stepped in and ended the tradebefore it got as bad as it did. Imagine if I still had $1,000 instead of $500! Ireally wanted that money back. It hurt to think about how stupid I hadbeen.
“Good point, Banes. Yes, it would be good if someone could step in andhelp him. But he’s not the kind of person to accept help. Remember, allthese guys including me are used to being the best at what we do. We madegood grades in school. We played first string. We are meant to be right, tobe making money. It’s human nature to not want to admit that you'rewrong.”
“T know exactly how that works,” I told him. “That pretty much sumsup my disaster trade.”
 
Charlie Flank Meets His Match 37
“Well, at least you didn’t lose ten million dollars of your company’strading capital on the trade.”
Speaking of a firm’s trading capital made me think of Sam Wilson.What was he buying or selling today? Had he seen enough on Friday tomake his decisions today? Was he trading at all? What about Doorecker?Had he bought or sold?
“That's a ton of money. Ten million dollars lost on a trade. You wouldthink that he would just know better.”
“He and his friends. Right. He told his friends he had this hot tip from afamous Wall Street trader—couldn’t name him, of course—but it was asure thing. And those guys all together loaded up even more. Man, they re-ally put themselves in a bad spot. When I saw the buying pressure justshoot upward for the dollar, and I saw the British Pound fall, that was all Ineeded to know. I sold Pounds and took my profit and I was done. I’ve hadmy days of listening to other people and then losing. Those days are over.”
“Replaced by calmly following the charts after an economic report isreleased.”
“That sums it up nicely.”
“And you learned all this with the help of your friend. Your tradingmentor.” Perhaps now was the right time for Craig to introduce me to histeacher.
“Winklestein? Oh, you'll meet him. For sure. I told him about you.”
“Really?” This was excellent news!
“Winklestein is his name?”
“Yep. Harvey Winklestein.” Craig paused, which told me that he was re-flecting back on some good times with his teacher. “He is the best teacherof traders in the world. No one like him anywhere else. I think he’s inter-ested in helping you. You're lucky. He doesn’t work with very many peopleanymore.”
Now it was my turn to pause. How was I going to pay this teacher?
“Craig, I have no way to pay him,” I admitted. “It’s the embarrassingtruth.”
He laughed. “Oh, Harvey doesn’t want your money up front.”
This didn’t make a lot of sense. “He wants my money later on?” I asked.
“Sort of. Pll let him describe it to you. When the time is right, you canmeet him. I am excited for you.”
“Me too.” My mind raced: Who was this guy Winklestein? Where washe from? He had trained Craig and Doorecker, so obviously he’d beenaround for a long time.
“I gotta go in a second. The Institute for Supply Management, or ISMServices report is going to be released in half an hour. But before I hang up,who is this guy you met at U.S. National? What’s his name again?”
“Samuel Wilson.”
 
  
 
83 ADVENTURES OF A CURRENCY TRADER
“Never heard of him. What does he trade?”
“Apparently anything he wants. He’s been there for 40 years. Said thathe started in the mailroom. Worked his way up.”
“Now that’s the kind of guy Harvey would love. And it looks like thoseguys over there at U.S. National are hungry for more U.S. Dollars. Isee onmy terminal that U.S. National is selling the Euro against the U.S. dollar ina big way. They have orders stacked out even higher up than where theyhad first traded after the report.”
“Orders stacked out?”
“Right. Orders to buy U.S. Dollars. Orders to sell the Euro. They can’tunload two hundred fifty million Euros on top of someone at the currentprice, so they offer to sell Euros at a price outside the market. Let’s say thatthe EUR/USD is trading right now at—” he broke off to check his computerscreen—“1.2020. That's the bid price it’s trading at now. They could proba-bly push though an order for fifty million dollars near that price right now.But if they want to unload a quarter of a billion Euros, then they might haveto offer to sell them at 1.2000 or so.”
“That means that the buyer gets the Euros at a great price.”
“Right. Unless it is going to fall a long, long way.”
I imagined this in my mind. Hank Doorecker and Samuel Wilsonwanted to sell Euros. They couldn’t sell as many as they wanted to sell inone chunk unless they agreed to give the buyer a sweet immediate profit.This would entice a buyer to do the transaction. But if the price then fellhard, the buyer would be left holding Euros at a higher price than theycould sell them for. U.S. National would make a huge profit and the buyerwould be screwed.
“And other traders accept that offer?” I asked. “Knowing that they aregoing to get screwed?”
“Sure. All the time. Keep in mind that the other side of the trade—someother major bank or a hedge fund—thinks that it’s buying a ton of Euroscheap. Because their computer programs or high-paid analysts tell themthat the Euro is going up.” This made sense to me. Craig continued: “TheEuro is so heavily traded. This type of big transaction happens all the time.For every buyer, there are lots of sellers, and vice versa. For the bigger or-ders, like I just described, traders might have to put up orders outside themarket price, but that’s okay. They know what they want to do.”
It seemed to me that whatever Samuel Wilson, Hank Doorecker, andU.S. National wanted to do would be a good idea. I asked: “What price arethey offering to sell at?”
An idea brewed in the back of my mind. This might be the best idea I’'dhad yet.
Obviously I couldn’t see Craig, but I imagined a wide smile on his face.“I think I know where you're going with this.”
 
Charlie Flank Meets His Match 39
“Yes. I want to sell at the same price.” I was already logging into my on-line bank account, and setting up a wire transfer to send $5,000 more to mytrading account. That would increase the size of the account to $5,500 total.I decided that if I only had one chance to take advantage of piggybackingon a trade with U.S. National Bank, I was going to take it. When I had com-pleted the wire online, I asked Craig: “What price are they selling at?”
“They have a huge sell order at 1.2200.”
“That's nearly 200 points away. And it’s upward. Why sell when it is ris-ing? And why not just sell down at 1.2000?”
“They’ve got their own reasons. I don’t know. Listen, I gotta go.”
I told him how grateful I was for his time. The wire transfer would hitmy trading account within a day, and then I would plug in an order to sellthe EUR/USD at the same price as Samuel and the dudes down at the bank.
“You're welcome,” he said. “Don’t make any trades just yet. Maybewatch that 1.2200 level for a sell trade. But keep the risk down this time.You can get killed on these long-term trades. It could move 100 pips againstyou before it turns around. Understood?”
lagreed to play it safe.
“And we should have lunch in a couple of weeks,” he told me. “Whenthis whole missing Anderson file thing blows over.”
Missing file? So they’d fired me over a missing file, just as I had pre-sumed. A file that Herbie had probably misplaced.
“A couple of weeks? You sure we can’t meet sooner? I was thinking Icould take you to lunch later this week. I checked the economic calendar,nothing’s really coming out.”
“Well, actually, that’s true,” he replied. “You did your homework. Okay,call me back in a few days and we'll see if we can hook up, even if it’s justfor a few minutes. And be on the lookout for Winklestein. He can show upat anytime, anywhere.”
I looked forward to the meeting with Harvey. In the mean time,I thought I'd just run downtown and see if I could meet up with Mr. SamWilson.
U.S. NATIONAL BANK ALMOST KILLS ME
 
When I showed up at the front desk on the trading level of U.S. NationalBank, the secretary recognized my face but not my name. No matter, itwasn't good news.
“May I help you?” she asked it in a way that let me know clearly thatshe had no intention of helping me at all. Instead, I had the feeling that shemight have already called security. She looked just the way my mom did
 
  
 
90 ADVENTURES OF A CURRENCY TRADER
when she had caught me stealing the pennies from the free penny dish atthe convenience store. This was not going to be a happy conversation:
Me: [have an appointment with Samuel Wilson.
SKEPTICAL RECEPTIONIST: Sure you do, Mr, uh, Charles Flank, who nolonger works for Wakeman, Butterman, and Bailey. You have a specialmeeting with, um, Samuel Wilson, who doesn’t work here?
Me: [protesting] No, really, I do have an appointment with him. He doeswork here. My name is Harry Banes.
SKEPTICAL RECEPTIONIST: No, really, you don’t have any appointmentshere, Mr. Banes. There’s no Samuel Wilson at U.S. National Bank. Neverwas. And there’s no Harry Banes here, either.
Me: Yes! Yes there is a Harry Banes at U.S. National Bank. And if you dou-ble-check, there is a Samuel Wilson here, too.
SKEPTICAL RECEPTIONIST: Should I call Mr. Sutherland and see what hethinks about your appointment with Mr. Wilson?
Me: [looking dumb]
This left me with very little to say. I most certainly did not want tomiss any news about how Samuel and Harvey and the rest of the U.S. Na-tional Bank trading crew were handling the trade to sell the EUR/USD at1.2200. When would that trade open? It could happen today, for sure—even though the currency pair would have to move 200 points upward toget to the entry. Why were they selling all the way up there? Craig hadsaid they could get an order sooner than that. Why wait that long? Andwhere was Mr. Wilson? How could I get in there without her calling thepolice?
Worse than calling the police would be to call Mr. Sutherland. Pissinghim off would end my chances forever of seeing the trading floor here, oranywhere else, for that matter. Mr. Wilson was probably waiting for me, ex-pecting me, and I was going to ruin the opportunity if I didn’t get in there.So I decided that I would beg.
“T promise. Last time I didn’t see Mr. Sutherland. I know. I lied. I lied toyou, I lied to my wife earlier last week, I lied to my boss and to some otherpeople that I can’t remember right now. But you gotta let me in that door. Iswear Mr. Wilson works here.”
She had transformed suddenly into the Angry Receptionist. “I’ve al-ready called security,” she told me very matter-of-factly. “Don’t you think Iknow who works here? Don’t you think I would have checked first? Nowwould be a good time to turn around and leave.”
Theard a ding and the sound of elevator doors opening, and heavy foot-steps behind me.
 
Charlie Flank Meets His Match 91
“Would you please call Mr. Wilson and tell him that I am here? If he saysthat he doesn’t know me, then I will go. You can handcuff me or arrest me.You can just page out to the trading floor, or look up your directory again.”
Now I was really hoping that Mr. Wilson did not suffer from any formof senility. I mean, he had looked older than anyone else on the tradingfloor, and it was possible that he had forgotten all about me. For sure, hewould have left my name at the front desk. Wait a minute! He hadn’t toldthem that I was coming! No wonder I was having all this trouble. Certainlyhe had forgotten about the appointment. Just as Iimagined—he was gener-ous and helpful but not very bright.
It was now just one minute before noon and I was positive that I wasnever going to get in—he would probably not even be at his desk anylonger, since he worked shorter days. He was an old man. Needed a nap orwhatever.
By then, two security guards were standing by my side and I must havebeen giving the Angry Receptionist the most pitiful look ever, because shedid pick up her phone.
“Judy, there’s a psychopath out here in the lobby and he wants to knowif we have a Samuel Wilson at the firm.” Then a pause.
“No, not a real psychopath. He’s just demanding to see a man namedSamuel Wilson, says he works on the trading floor.” Another pause and Ithought my bladder would explode from the tension. I held on, knowingthat I only needed a few more seconds before she’d realize her mistake, Icould use the restroom, and then I'd be whooshed through the giant ma-hogany doors, where I’d find a happy Mr. Wilson ready to instruct me in theways of secretive, rich, master traders who would take me in as their ownand raise me up to be the greatest trader who ever lived.
Or not.
I felt a hand grip my right arm. Then another grabbed my left elbow.They were huge, meaty hands that could crush a man’s dream of goingonto the trading floor at U.S. National Bank. I looked to my left and right—within 10 feet there were windows on either side. We were 20 floors aboveground. I wondered from which side they were going to throw me out. Thisis not how [had planned to die, but it was possible that I was going to leavethis world never having seen more than one Non-Farm Payroll jobs report.And with a planned order to gain glorious, innumerable pips from a selltrade on the Euro!
Priest: Dearly beloved, we gather here this grey and cloudy morning tocelebrate the life of Harold Banes.
No, wait. That wasn’t it.
 
  
 
92 ADVENTURES OF A CURRENCY TRADER
Priest: Dear friends, Mr. Governor, Senators, Members of Congress,Mr. Sutherland, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Wilson, and Mr. Herbie Johnson: Wemeet this sorry, rainy morning to mourn the pitiful life of Harry Banes,destined to be the greatest trader who ever lived, et cetera, and stufflike that.
[weeping]
Priest: Our only consolation is that the Angry Receptionist at U.S. Na-tional Bank was fired yesterday for not knowing the names of thetraders at the firm.
[more weeping]
The hands gripped tighter on my arms.
“There is no Samuel Wilson at the firm.”
She was now Angry and Happy Receptionist, as if she at once tookgreat pleasure in the fact that I would die a sorry heap of human flesh atthe corner of Broad and Wall Streets below; and at the same time had beendeeply offended at my insistence that she did not know the names of thepeople that she worked for.
“Goodbye, Mr. Banes.”
Oh, double-crap. My entire plan was now totally backfiring. I did theonly thing that I could, as the grip on my elbow tightened and I started tomove backward against my will. My feet were dragging on the floor as Iwas pulled into the elevator. I called out:
Me: [yelling] I am Charlie Flank, too! Mr. Wilson, it’s me, Charlie Flank,and Harry Banes! We are here to see you!
She hung up her phone and turned back to her work. Of course, shecould claim no hand in my murder, especially now that she was not payingattention to the situation. The World Wrestling Federation had nothing onthese guys who were now pressing the buttons for the first floor, whileholding on to me tightly, as if 1 could get away once locked inside the eleva-tor. Thankfully, I had not been thrown from a window. But would the po-lice be waiting for me outside? Would I have to call my wife to bail me out?How much of my severance package would now disappear in legal fees?
On the first floor, the doors to the elevator parted, and they pushed meout. Then they walked me out to the main doors and shoved me onto thesidewalk on Wall Street. I fell down. People just walked over me, or kickedme. Luckily, no one tripped. My head popped up, and I could see the NewYork Stock Exchange down the street. I put my head back down.
 
Charlie Flank Meets His Match 93
I was never going to be a trader, I told myself.
“Sure you are going to be a trader,” a familiar voice called down to me.lifted my head and saw an old, wrinkled hand offered to help me.
Tlooked up. It was Samuel Wilson.
“Harry Banes?” He grinned. “Charlie Flank?” An even wider grin. “Isthat you?”
I did not smile back. I wasn’t angry either. Just totally relieved that hewas there. I looked up into his eyes.
“Help!” was all I could say. My eyes started to well up with tears. Whyhadn't he told them I was coming to see him that day? Why did I have tostruggle so much just to get ahead? I imagined that my trading platformhad self-generated a Euro trade and that it was now opening, that I wasnow selling EUR/USD at 1.2200, and it was just racing upward in a climbthat would suck up all the remaining funds in my trading account. My wifewould leave me, take all the furniture except my favorite reclining chair,which would then break, then the last lightbulb in our apartment wouldburn out, and I would sit in the dark until I died.
“No, Harry,” he told me, stretching his hand out again. “That is notgoing to happen. You are going to be a great trader. Perhaps the best ever. Ipromise that.”
How did he know what I was thinking?
How had he shown up at just the right moment?
Samuel Wilson knew who I was!
And he wanted to help me! In that moment I handed myself completelyover to him, to do his bidding, to learn whatever he had to teach me. Hewas my friend in the darkest moment and that was enough; it was plentyenough to know that he wasn’t going to leave me to die an embarrassingdeath on the street that symbolized all my unrealized hopes. That he wouldstand up for me when I couldn't stand up for myself. That he would appearat the exact moment when I was letting go of all of my impossible dreams.And then I realized, with a shudder of adrenaline that raced from the tip ofmy head, through my entire body, and down to my feet: This man wasn’twho I thought he was. This wasn’t Samuel Wilson.
This was Harvey Winklestein.
 
  
 
Coming Clean
 
arvey’s grip was strong. He pulled me up from the sidewalk withone arm.“What are you doing lying around here?”
“I thought this is where all the future currency trading superstars gottheir start,” I replied, dusting myself off.
He chuckled. “You're more right than you might think.”
When he led me back through the doors and into the elevator, I wasskeptical. “Do you think they will let me back in? They were not very happy.”
“I am sure they weren't.”
“Why didn’t you let them know I was coming?”
He paused. Looked me straight in the eyes: “You weren’t honest thelast time you were here. You also didn’t keep your promise to visit again.”He stopped. All I could hear was the sound of the elevator moving up. Thetruth stung me. “You needed a lesson.”
“I got the lesson.”
Then he placed both hands on my shoulders and turned me to him. Itfelt like he could pick me up right off the floor. “This is the lesson, Harry:Don't ever lie to me. Or to anyone else. Ever. Lying will kill you in trading.”
I looked him back in the eye. “I promise. I promise to be honest fromthis point forward. About everything.”
With that, he said, “Good,” and we stepped off into the reception areaof the trading floor. The secretary was not happy to see me again, but shedid smile when she saw Harvey. “Hi, Harvey,” she chirped. “He’s with you, Isuppose?”
94
 
Coming Clean 95
He nodded. “Thanks, Valerie. He’s now okay here anytime. No morecalling security.” She nodded back. I could tell that she wished that secu-rity had thrown me out the window. When we sat down at his desk, I no-ticed that most of the traders had left for the day.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Gone. They’re done for now. They can go home and get the same in-formation about their trades as they can get at the office. We’re not fillingclient orders here or anything.”
“How would that make a difference?”
“Well, if we were at a major Wall Street desk, clients would be callinghere and asking for us to quote a price on Sterling or Euros or Yen. Andwe'd give them a price and so on. They can call all day long.”
“What do you do here that is so different?”
“We trade the firm’s capital.”
“Does anyone quote prices for clients here?”
“Yes. But they’re on a different floor. Here, we are all prop traders. Pro-prietary. We trade for the firm, to make the firm money. Well, I don’t. Buteveryone else here does.”
“What do you do here?”
“Whatever I want. I look at my long-term charts. I make some trades.But this is just a desk that I’m allowed to use whenever I want.”
“For conversations like this?”
He shook his head. “You're the first trader that I've brought here.”
Isquinted my eyes at him. “I got here myself.”
He laughed. “You didn’t do anything yet that I didn’t already knowabout. You got in the first day because of me. Just like you are here now.”
I wondered how he knew all this. For now it did not matter, but Imadea mental note to interview him about how he knew so much about me. Itwas like he could read my mind. But first I had lots of questions. “You weregoing to talk with me about honesty,” I told him.
“Yes. Let’s get right into that. This is one of the most important laws oftrading: Traders must always be honest.”
HOW HONESTY RELATES TO TRADING
 
Me: You said that honesty is one of the most important laws of trading.Why? Why aren’t we talking about the trades you are taking? Ithink I heard you are about to take a long-term position on theEUR/USD. Why don’t we start by talking about that trade? Shouldn’t Idive right in?
Harvey: You already dove in. You dove in when you took totally irrespon-sible trades. That was diving in. We don’t want to do that. To build on the
 
  
 
96 ADVENTURES OF A CURRENCY TRADER
analogy about diving, I want to teach you to test the water first. To makesure that there isn’t a riptide. To prevent you from drowning.
Me: Walk before I run.
Harvey: More like prevent you from diving into shallow water. That’swhat you were doing before.
Me: So how does honesty fit in with all this?
Harvey: It’s the first step. It’s actually one of the most important lessons. Ihave three most important lessons, each of them equally critical to yourprogression as a trader.
Me: I’m ready. For anything you say.
Harvey: Okay. How many times have you lied in the past month?
Me: [silence]
Harvey: All right, I'll repeat the question in a different way. In the pastmonth, did you ever lie to Herb Johnson? Or anyone at the office?
Me: Yes.
Harvey: How many times?
Me: I’m not sure that I know how to answer that. It wasn’t that many.
Harvey: That is not an acceptable answer. You'll have to do better thanthat.
Me: Okay. This is not very comfortable for me. I thought I was going to beasking you all the questions.
Harvey: We'll mostly learn by me asking you questions. That’s becauseeverything you need to learn is already inside you—I am just going to pullit out of you. Like an infected tooth, or a burst appendix.
Me: How pleasant.
Harvey: So what's the answer? How many times did you lie at work?
Me: At least ten times. At least. I lied about where I was. I lied about An-derson wanting to give me a job. I lied to an attorney about who I wastalking to on the phone. I lied to cover myself a few times.
Harvey: Is that all? Just the spoken lies?
Me: Just the spoken ones? What does that mean?
Harvey: It means that you can lie by your actions, too. Not just yourwords. This is important. So important, that what I told you in the eleva-tor is true. Don’t ever lie to me again. Or anyone. I’ll cut off your trainingand we'll see how you do. I don’t have time to mess around.
Me: But what do you mean when you Say that I can lie through my ac-tions?
Harvey: I mean that you can steal time from your employer. Did you everdo that?
Me: Steal time? Gosh, it seems to me that anyone working in a law firm isthere to steal time.
 
Coming Clean 97
Harvey: That’s funny, but it still avoids the question. Did you steal time?Did you trade while at work?
Me: Yes. I did. But—
Harvey: That’s stealing time unless you do it on your break. Did you tradeonly during your breaks?
Me: No. Not only during my breaks. I did it on the clock.
Harvey: Anything else?
Me: Well, when you talk about it like this, I’ve been stealing time from thelaw firm for a long time. For ten years. I probably stole an hour a day forten years. At least that much.
Harvey: How?
Me: By taking an extra few moments on a break here and there. By tak-ing my time as I walked around. Walking the long way to get to a part-ner’s office. Filing something twice so that it would double the time ittook to do one thing, so I didn’t have to get on with the next big proj-ect. Gosh, now that I think of it, I wasn’t honest at work at all.
Harvey: How about your wife?
Me: Yes. I have lied to her. Yes.
Harvey: Anyone else?
Me: Probably yes. Well, definitely yes. Sure. I haven’t been very honest inthe past few weeks. I lied to Valerie at your front desk. I lied my wayonto the trading floor.
Harvey: It’s good that you are admitting all of this. Now I want you to gooutside the door here and apologize to Valerie. I will be here when youget back.
MAKING AMENDS
 
Apologize to Valerie? What was that all about? How was that going to makeme a better trader? I hoped