I should start heading to work. It is getting early. Down Montgomery Street, down the hill.

* * * *

I went back home to visit recently, for Thanksgiving. My brother wasn’t there, so it was just the three of us.

There wasn’t much to talk about, my dad driving us home from the airport.

“How’s work?”

“It’s a living. Could be doing better, but I’m surviving.”

“Why just surviving?”

“It’s complicated, Dad.”

“Explain.”

“Well, I wanted stocks to not move around very much, but they moved around a lot.”

“But haven’t they gone up?”

“But I don’t care if they go up or down. I just want them to stand still.”

“And they didn’t.”

“No.”

Dad thinks about this.

“Well, why don’t you just buy the stocks? They’re going up.”

“But that’s not my job.”

“But you can trade stock there, on the floor, right?”

“Yes.”

“So just buy stocks.”

“Dad. I would get fired for just buying stocks.”

“You would get fired for making money?”

“Dad, I’m not a portfolio manager. I’m an options market maker. I look for options that are mispriced.”

“Having any luck finding any?”

Even though he was being retarded, he had a point. If I had used all of my firm capital and bought MSFT four years ago, I’d be rich. And I never would have had to set foot on the floor. Instead, I’ve been pissing into the wind.

We went out to eat, on Saturday night. They asked me what I liked. I said I liked sushi. Sushi in Central Illinois is a bad idea.

“Your brother is putting on Captain next month,” he said.

“Good for him.”

“We’re very proud,” said my mom.

“But it’s really not that big of a deal,” I said, in between bites of almost inedible eel. “Right? Pretty much everyone makes O-3.”

Dad got the hibachi. He thinks sushi is bait. “Actually, the promotion rate was the lowest in years. Sixty percent. They’re cutting back, you know.”

It was a mistake to bring it up.

“Why did you quit OCS?” he asked me, looking directly at me.

“Honey.”

“Carol, we need to talk about this. He’s never given me an answer.”

“I had a bad feeling.”

“You had a bad feeling.”

“Yeah, I had a bad feeling.”

“Like you were scared?”

“No, like I thought I wouldn’t be happy.”

“You thought you wouldn’t be happy.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Like, you thought you wouldn’t make enough money?”

“That’s ridiculous. It has nothing to do with money.”

“So what is it, then?”

“It wasn’t for me.”

“But trading is for you.”

“Yes.”

I’m still going on the crappy sushi, but my father has stopped eating.

“You ever think about going to law school?” he asks.

“That sounds miserable,” I say, chewing.

“Your Uncle Jeff is a lawyer.”

“I know.”

“He does quite well for himself.”

“Great. But it’s not about the money.”

“What is it, then?”

“It wouldn’t be fun.”

“Lots of things aren’t fun, but we do them anyway.”