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The Sunday Read: How to swindle your grandmother

One shall not judge but I guess what he has done may never leave him.

I was a little hesitant at first. I had no interest in stock brokerage. I didn’t know anything about it. So I walked into this office park in Lake Success, and there was no sign that says Stratton Oakmont or anything but there’s a line of cars — Rolls-Royces, Bentleys, Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Porsches, Mercedes.

You provide an instant justification of reward. Why talk about ifs and possibilities?

When a stock collapsed, the mentality was that even if you lost thousands of dollars you’d buy more — instead of relating to a client that it crashed, you’d say it’s trading at a discount. And it worked because everyone wanted to make money.

Shit. Isn’t that what I sold my readers sometimes as well?

I went from a cold caller to an account opener to a broker, but I didn’t save any money — I spent it as fast as it came. I never bought any property — I didn’t think it was ever going to end. Property? The future? No. The future was right here and now. I’m driving a $70,000 car.

If you have any sense in how you live your life, you will seldom understand this.

I got to the point where I realized there was no way you could win. To this day, I still remember two clients’ names who lost all their money because of me. I think they’re dead now, but I did think about making amends. Now it’s too late.

It’s probably why I’m in the medical business now and I’m a physician’s assistant — to try to make up for that s- -t.

[New York Post | My Life Working For The Real  “Wolf of Wall Street”]

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