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Integrity's Overrated {Why I'm an Asshole}

Integrity's way overrated. It definitely doesn't pay the mortgage. And, it leaves you penniless, in bad health.

There are times I wonder why I went down the road I did. I got into commercial banking at 24 because that was my only ticket out of a secretarial pool. In 1978, commercial banking was the sole industry that welcomed women with degrees, women like me with too many in literature and liberal arts.

International commercial banking thrived on women who were fluent in several languages. The majority of men in management were usually ex-pats enjoying the good life in America although some considered it a penance. It was a hard and perilous journey for me. Being attractive, fuck yeah, I was stunning back then, I had to navigate past all those leeches who didn't understand that the salary paid for the mind, not the body.

Integrity once again. Gets ya every time.

My first banking job in a French bank no longer in existence, Banque Francaise du Commerce Exterieur, was a nightmare. I worked for a woman who used her twat as a way to get new corporate clients. Actually, the way the women in that bank fucked their way up startled me.

Unlike them, I lived overseas for years and thought I was the worldly one then. Ah, the arrogance of youth.

I made several friends with other lower echelon women like myself who joined the bank in the desire of moving our way up. One woman, in particular, was breathtakingly beautiful. Even my mother's jaw dropped to the ground when she came over. She fucked her way up. When her boss tired of her, then she was fired.

I was fired because I wouldn't fuck the head of the bank. The last incident, the head of the bank ran out of his office shrieking, "How can I concentrate when she's doing THAT?" That was putting a file away in a cabinet in another room. Pulling me into his office, he gave me an ultimatum. In retaliation, I set the microwave on fire. It was safer than what I really wanted to do.

So it went with the subsequent banking jobs. I was a maverick then, refusing to give into the common underlying threats. Raises and bonuses were distributed because no fucking way could they dispute the quality and productivity I generated. Promotions, though, were only given from the tip o' the dick.

Job-hopping was the sole way I could make my way up in the commercial banking empire.

However, the higher the rungs of the commercial banking corporate ladder, the more my integrity cropped up. It was still the fucking my way up issue which I found distasteful. Yet, I faced even more dire things: I found out shit that would compromise me, the bank and might lead to jail time.

Did I happen to mention I was a commercial banker?


Imagine being in your mid-20's and facing that shit. Imagine facing that shit for the ensuing 30 years. At least my fuckable status declined. Thank GOD for aging.

Yet, what I was privy to made me anguish, gnash my teeth and question my integrity. Integrity's a tough issue. Should I mindlessly do my job, ignoring the illegalities and questionable practices of the financial institution? Or should I speak my mind? Forget about encountering management. Whoa, did I learn!

I approached a bank GM early on in my career about kickbacks, etc. in questionable loans. Stupid me. It was orchestrated between him and my boss. They thought I'd be stupid and never realize what they were up to. What they didn't realize was that I was a dedicated employee who took my job seriously.

That was the catch. That was always the catch. It followed me like a stalker, like the former demented boss who stalked me career-wise for 17 years. All in the name of my integrity because I wouldn't fuck him.

What I belatedly realize is that I should've been like my coworkers: Who? What? How? Where? They closed their eyes, parted their thighs and reaped the rewards of financial security.

Instead, stupidly, I couldn't condone these activities. My niche job over 30 years as gatekeeper was taken very much to heart. My role was to ensure that all transactions fit into the scope of these three questions:

(1) Does the transaction make sense, businesswise?
(2) Are our depositors and shareholders protected?
(3) Does it further the economy?

I was a dinosaur. Still am.

So, fuck integrity. I'm going broke from it. Even in my new career, I don't debase myself as other indie writers have done, having friends & family post bogus reviews, populating their pages to get people to think: WOW, this is some book! Instead, I rely on what true readers think, good and bad. I rely on the excellent critical reviews, the awards and guess where it led me?

HA!

Again, FUCK integrity.

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This blog and all its posts are a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.















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