birdwatcher | I know the feeling

In retrospect, it is clear to me that my arrival at Salomon marked the beginning of the end of that hallowed institution. Wherever I went, I couldn't helped noticing, the place fell apart. Not that I was ever a big enough wheel in the machine to precipitate its destruction on my own. But that they let me—and other drifters like me—in the door at all was an early warning signal. Alarm bells should have rung. They were losing touch with their identity. They had once been shrewd traders of horseflesh. Now they were taking in all the wrong kinds of people.

Michael Lewis, Liar's Poker, 1989.