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They were open everything. The RBC deal may not have vaulted Gordon into the establishment—it was far too much of an iconoclast for that to ever happen—but it made the firm respected, if not feared. By the mid-1980s, Gordon was raking in cash and its culture was accelerating. It quickly dispensed with the ponderous and hierarchical ways of the buttoned-down firms, ushering in the era of the risk-taking, thrill-seeking, fast-living investment banker.
Racy stories—perhaps apocryphal and certainly not involving anyone named in this article—are legion. Two secretaries received breast implants as a bonus one year. A stripper, dressed as a nun, was brought into the office to entertain a partner. Cleaning ladies caught certain staff engaging in furtive bathroom trysts—that is, when they weren’t sneaking off for a dalliance on the firm’s sailboat, G-Force. The company even hired a butler, Basil, who once strolled into the corporate finance department, dangling a belt someone had “lost” in the boardroom.

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