Living dangerously: Diary of an ABS professional, Week 4

In which Mr ABS has a nasty encounter with some people in HR.

This week I was planning to rant about the BoE and its refusal to accept ABS securities as collateral. I'm glad I didn't draft anything in advance. However, more personal events have kept me away from rejoicing fully at the central banks' concerted actions.

On Tuesday afternoon we were told that our team was going to be restructured and were asked to come in early on Wednesday.

Wednesday came, and we found ourselves sitting at our desks and trying not to look at each other. This wasn't too hard as, in reality, we were all too busy staring at our phones. My colleague's rang and he was summoned to one of the meeting rooms. Thirty minutes later he came back, escorted by some HR midget. He took his coat, waved a feeble goodbye and was gone. He had been with the bank for six years, having joined straight from university.

Throughout the morning, phones kept ringing at 30-minute intervals. It is funny that one has to go through 10 interviews to join the bank and thereafter through induction courses, health and safety presentations, compliance questionnaires etc., but when the bank wants to get rid of you all they can spare you is 30 minutes.

At some point my telephone rang. I was invited to the meeting room. There was a rather large-chested HR lady waiting for me. To be fair, she was just very large but I tried to do my best to focus on something soothing and as she was sitting down it was easy. The HR midget was also there.

I was told that I had been identified as a potential redundancy; that I was not yet being made redundant; that they were going to try to identify whether there was any other position in the bank for me; but that times were bad and there were only a few such opportunities. However she told me that I would have to leave today, and that in a few weeks I would have to come back to the office at which point they would confirm whether I'm in or out.

I immediately asked about the severance package. It transpired this was 3% of my total annual compensation for the previous year. I could see that the HR beast was actually enjoying the situation. For the last few years she must have been signing contracts on behalf of the bank for new joiners with guaranteed bonuses worth more than her flat, but now it was her time. She was waving goodbye to people more senior than herself and had the privilege of announcing the pittance they would get.

I pointed out that I could take sole credit for a P&L which was large enough to allow the payment of a bonus slightly below what I got the previous year. I was obviously hoping to do better, but given market circumstances it was a good result. She then delighted in pointing out that bonuses are purely discretionary. I presume that the P&L of our team has already been allocated to whoever's going to take over my boss's business.

At that point, I decided that I had so far given too much pleasure to Mrs HR, and just kept nodding for the remainder of my 30 minutes. It then fell to the vertically challenged one to see me off - a strange choice for escorting angry men off the premises, I presume that it is equal opportunity at its best. In any case she did her job well and in no time I was bounced out.

After some hesitation I went to the pub, where the colleagues who had preceded me were drowning their sorrow and anger. After the ritual few shots that people who have just received such news throw down their necks, I thought about informing my wife that I would be coming home early. But the bank had already cut my mobile off.

Things move fast in banking.