Why I Decided to Become a Stock Trader
In the mid 2000s, I worked the front desk at a gym. I earned $7.25 an hour, but the real job I wanted was a Membership Consultant. The gym was my home away from home. Selling memberships didn’t sound like a job. It sounded like a dream.
I love this gym. I use this gym. Before I worked here, I was a member. Easiest job ever. But … they weren’t hiring salespeople at the time, so, I opted for the front desk. Anyway, I was writing a book, and the manager told me I could write at the desk. My plan was to do the front desk thing for a while and wait until one of the salespeople to move on and then I’d swoop in.
Over time, though, the gym became more and more corporate and thus, more toxic. When the company went public, everything changed. New management came in and the culture changed overnight. Suddenly, they were focused on increasing sales month over month. They had to hit quotas, otherwise the General Manager wouldn’t get his bonus.
If you couldn’t close a sale, you were a loser. You sucked. You were terrible at your job and should be embarrassed. The GM would make people stay late until they got one last sale (not sure that was legal, but that’s what happened).
Night after night, I’d watch membership consultants walk out of the front door with their heads hung down, depressed, defeated, miserable.
There was one salesman in particular, who was the nicest guy, but not exactly the best salesperson. Sometimes, prospective members would say, “Let me think about it.” And get this. He’d just let. Them. LEAVE? The GM was horrified.
You don’t LET THEM LEAVE. You corner them. You break them down. Call them fat if you have too. Pit them against their spouse (“You have to get your husbands permission to join the gym? Is he that controlling? You aren’t allowed to make your own decisions?”). Do whatever it takes to close that sale. Don’t let them leave your office until they’re a member!
On the last day of the month, the Membership Consultant was one sale away from hitting quota. And if they didn’t hit the quota, the GM wouldn’t get his bonus. So, the GM forbade him from leaving until he sold one more membership.
Every hour, on the hour, the GM would call me and ask if he’d signed anyone up yet. Around midnight, the membership consultant was sitting at the front desk with me when the phone rang. It was the GM again. I could hear the entire conversation.
“Anything yet?” The GM asked.
“No, man. Nothing.”
“Did you call all of your leads? Did you follow up on your emails?”
“Yeah, but it’s midnight. I can’t call anyone now. It’s too late. What am I supposed to do?”
“Is anyone coming in?”
“Not now, man. It’s midnight. Can I please go home? Nobody is coming in this late. Can I please go home?”
After a long pause, the manager sighed and said yes, but not before telling the membership consultant how he had failed the team and let everyone down.
A month later, the membership consultant got fired and the GM turned to me.
“Want a promotion? We could use you on our sales team.”
By this point, I was probably making around eight bucks an hour. Membership consultants made $50,000 a year. But all I had to do was look at the salespeople to know I wanted no part of that lifestyle.
But … I didn’t know what else to do. I had wanted to be a pro wrestler out of high school. I broke my back and worked in the restaurant industry instead. And then the fitness industry. I had no real aspirations. No idea what I wanted to do with my life. But I knew what I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to be a salesman for a corporate gym that cared only about profits. I knew I didn’t want to get harassed by my boss, or called a loser, or a disappointment. I didn’t want to put up with all that verbal abuse just for a measly $50,000 a year.
Around the same time, a bunch of our older, retired members would stand around chatting about what stocks they were trading. I knew a little about investing and zero about trading stocks. But I figured they were all old and rich, so all I had to do was copy their trades and bam. That’d be my ticket out of the minimum wage lifestyle. I’d make so much money copying their trades, I could buy myself time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life!
Brilliant strategy. I know.
A few months in, all of the money I had saved was gone. One penny stock after another wrecked me. Finally, I asked one of the guys how his stocks were doing.
“Oh, those penny stocks? They’re just for fun. We only buy a couple of shares. Usually we lose everything.”
A couple of shares? FUCK. I was so STUPID. They were spending like $10 on penny stocks and I was putting in like $15,000! They weren’t trying to get rich. They were just BORED. I felt sick.
But I also had a realization: If people were losing money trading stocks, I could make money. So, I bought two books, which you can read here and here and started teaching myself everything about stock trading and investing.
I’d make a few trades a month and work nights at the gym until I made back what I lost from being stupid and copying their trades. The bull market around 2010/2011 definitely helped. One trade after another, I was pulling in massive amounts of profits. I couldn’t believe it!
I thought, if I can keep this up, I can quit working minimum wage jobs, make a few trades here and there and have this amazing, high quality life full of purpose. No screaming boss. No insults. No commute. No soul sucking corporate job.
Of course, income was sporadic. Some months were great. Others were quiet. But as long as I had an ample rainy day fund, lived WAY below my means, and embraced a minimalist lifestyle, I could do it.
13 years later, I’d say it’s worked out pretty well for me. In the end, it comes down to values and what matters for you. If you need a luxury car to impress people you don’t like, or a fancy lavish lifestyle, trading stocks might not be for you. But I don’t care about shallow materialism.
You know that memership consultant from earlier in the post? He lived beyond his means. He was so depressed that he felt like if he spent everything on snazzy stuff, people would assume he was successful. And if he looked successful, then he had to be happy, right? But all that did was tether him to a job he hated. He couldn’t leave now. He had a Cadillac Escalade. He had a designer wardrobe full of expensive suits and luxury watches. He was so desperate to be happy that he sought it from the worst possible place and all it did was rob him of his own future.
In the end, that’s why I always say stock trading might not work for everyone, but everyone should be an investor.
