The Banker’s Apprentice

June 12th, 2009

Interviewing Texas billionaire Allen Stanford for a position in Fred Goodwin’s new underground bank was one of the more unusual tasks I’ve been assigned as a graphic designer. But it was Goodwin’s request and the grinning buffoon had already shown up so I decided to make the best of it.

I began by asking for his CV and he duly obliged, with a wide-eyed enthusiasm rarely seen in adults. As it turned out, the semi-literate hand-written note he thrust before me was also remarkably child-like. I decided to quiz him directly rather than attempt a deciphering.

“What experience do you think you could bring to this role, Allen?” It was the first and undoubtedly last time I’d ever utter these words.

“Gee, well I guess I built my own bank in Antigua!”

“Hmm.”

“It went from strength to strength and became a rock for the island state!”

“That’s not particularly deviant or wicked though, is it?” I asked. “You are aware this is an underground organisation?”

“Then I got loaded and blew all the money in Vegas!”

“Aha!” This was more like what Sir Fred was looking for in his staff. In fact, Stanford was the perfect candidate. Not only was he childish, greedy and remorseless, he was also a hopeless gambler.

“You’re just the man we’re looking for,” I said. “You’re hired!”

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All The Way From Texas

May 16th, 2009

Criminal mastermind Fred Goodwin had kept me busy designing corporate stationery for his new underground bank - so busy that I had been neglecting my other lowlife clients. This didn’t strike me as a problem, in fact it could be considered a perk.

But just when I thought I could return to analysing Ignacious Spore’s Twitter ramblings it became clear Goodwin had other chores in mind.

The doorbell rang and I was faced with a tall moustachioed man with wild eyes and an insane grin. I figured either he was on something or it was Texas billionaire Allen Stanford. Unfortunately it appeared to be both.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked. This was a customary greeting I had adopted for all my clients. Experience had taught me it was best this way.

“I’m here for the interview,” he declared excitedly, that crazy grin growing by the second.

“Interview?”

“Sure. Sir Fred tells me you’re the guy to know round here!”

Stanford proceeded to explain that Goodwin had been so pleased with my design work, he had given me an executive role in the new venture and I was now in a position of some authority. Clearly the loss of his previous bank had shattered his tiny mind.

The prospect of working with some of the greatest swindlers ever known was daunting, but on reflection I rather fancied it. Hell, if the bankers could make a hash of things, wait till everyone saw what it was like once the graphic designers were through.

The only question was how graphic designers would fit the work between AA meetings.

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