The Day Trader by Stephen Frey

understand that now,” he admits, looking depressed.
    “Roger, I’m kind of busy and—”
    “I was at the Department of Energy for the last ten years, doing budget work.” Roger’s voice is so soft I can barely hear him. “It was terrible. In at nine, gone by five. It was a total grind. I always took orders from other people. I got a steady paycheck, but it was never enough. Four percent raises a year and no bonus.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “I thought joining Bedford would make me seem more exciting, especially to my wife. She’s never said anything, but I don’t think she has much respect for me anymore.” He pauses and swallows hard. “I’m worried that she’ll, well, that she’ll . . .”
    He doesn’t finish, but I understand what he’s trying to say and the words hit home.
    “But now that I’m here, I’m petrified I’m going to lose everything I’ve ever saved,” he continues.
    And he could too. An inexperienced day trader can get caught in a whirlpool and drown before he even realizes he’s wet. “You were able to save half a million dollars working for the federal government over the last ten years?” I ask, remembering the discussion we had with Seaver about our initial capital.
    Roger grimaces. “I exaggerated a little. Well, actually a lot.”
    “How much are you really starting with?”
    “Less than fifty thousand. It’s everything my wife and I have.”
    “And she’s okay with this? Risking your entire savings on day trading, even when you don’t know what you’re doing? Just for the sake of being exciting?”
    Roger leans back and looks up at the ceiling. “She doesn’t know I’m here,” he admits quietly. “She thinks I’m still at the DOE.”
    “Oh, man,” I groan.
    Roger’s taking a drastic step to try to solve his midlife crisis, but he’ll only end up making matters worse for himself. Then who knows what will happen? A shooting spree at a fast-food joint or a school? A suicide attempt from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge? Roger could become that next headline we all see flash across our portal page when he finally loses every cent he has and dives into debt to support a habit that people say can be more addictive than crack. And Roger will lose everything if he doesn’t get very smart very fast. The capital markets are brutally efficient, constantly chewing up and spitting out the weak and the naive.
    “I figured I’d make a bunch of money here and surprise my wife with the cash. Then she wouldn’t care when I told her I had quit the DOE and made the money day trading.”
    “Day trading is tough, Roger,” I say firmly, as though I’m an expert. “What made you think you could be successful right away without any experience?”
    “I’ve got this neighbor who’s spent the past two years bragging about how much money he’s made investing in all of these dot-coms. My wife lit up every time he started talking about how he’s into this stock or that one, and the guy has been buying new furniture and flashy cars. Even a boat. He’s no rocket scientist so I figured I could do the same thing.” Roger shakes his head. “But get this. Last night he and I were in the backyard watching our kids chase fireflies while it was getting dark, and he lets on that he hasn’t really made much money in the stock market after all. In fact, he’s lost a lot lately. He’s bought all of the new stuff on credit, and now the bill collectors are closing in on him. He actually asked me for a loan. He almost broke down in tears, and it shook me. When I came in here this morning I was paralyzed thinking about how he’s going to lose everything. I had a couple of stocks I wanted to buy, opportunities he told me about, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. I was worried I’d end up like him. I mean, who is he to make recommendations anyway?” Roger stops stroking his beard. “Will you help me, Augustus?” he pleads. “It seems like you know what you’re doing. I could tell