Wilson was standing in front of my desk talking to me. It was a pleasant enough conversation. Weekend plans, that sort of thing. It was Friday after all.
“We’re going to try to get a run in early tomorrow,” he said. “Then we have Rex’s appointment at the groomer. Dogs, I’ll tell you, they have the life —“
Then he stopped, just like that, in mid-sentence like someone had pulled a plug. His arm twitched and a buzzing sound came from the phone in his hand. He stared down at it and shook his head. But not a normal head shake. This was a series of quick jerks as he read his device.
“Holy crap, gotta go,” he said, turning and racing for the door.
But he was staring at the phone and took off with his head down. He ran smack into the wall next to the door.
“Owwwwww,” he screamed, as he staggered backwards, his legs wobbly.
I bolted from my chair and raced across the office. First, I checked for damage to the family picture hanging next to the door. It was one of my favorites. It was all good. Then I turned to Wilson.
He was regaining his bearings and mumbling. “Down eleven-hundred and seventy-three, gotta go. Sell, sell. No, buy buy,” he blathered as he raced from the office.
I stepped into the hall and watched him dart into his office. Then I went down the hall and followed him in. There he was, was sitting at his desk facing two big screens. He slapped at the keyboard and talked to himself. He was in some sort of trance.
“Gonna sell the U.S., maybe buy something else. Let me see, let me see. Apple, what to do? Techs hit hard, bank stocks, what about Apple? Way down. China. Bad news,” he said, going on and on.
“Wilson?” I said. “You okay?”
His eyes darted from the screen to me, and the string of babbling continued.
“Economic slowdown, China, bond yields. Big news. Bad news. Sell. Sell,” he said.
He was typing furiously now, like he couldn’t keep up with whatever was going on in his mind. “Have to sell. Stocks plummeting.”
I stood up and reached across his desk and slapped him once across the face. Then a second time. He’d thank me for it later.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, snapping out if it.
He glanced around his office like an explorer discovering a new land. “When did I come in here? I was in your office talking about the weekend.”
“Good heavens,” I said. “Are you on some kind of medication or something?”
He shook his head, a normal head shake this time.
“What about a diet? Some new fad diet to start the year? Maybe eating nothing but whale blubber, or something?”
“No, no,” he said. “Besides, I tried Blubbering last year, remember? I gained seventy-three pounds.”
“Hmmm,” I said said. “Well, something triggered that catatonic state you went into.”
Then I saw his phone on the desk. “Give me that,” I said, pointing at it.
Wilson handed it over. “What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Passcode?”
“Four, four, four, four,” he said.
I punched it in and looked at the screen. It was tuned to one of the financial networks. A live stream of anchors sitting at a desk and talking. There were flashing red lights, like on a fire truck, swirling all around them. Words flashed along the bottom of the screen.
Major selloff…Dow down 12,0000…Get out now!!!
“This is your problem,” I said, waving the phone at Wilson. “How long do you keep this stream going?”
“All the time. I never shut it off. I may miss something. It sends me alerts when…”
Wilson was having an epiphany, maybe not a full blown one, but a mini one.
“Ah, my phone buzzed in your office,” he said. “I have the alerts and notifications set for when the market moves in a big way. You know, so I can protect myself and my investments, and my loved ones. That’s what the ad for the network said I would be doing when I signed up for the alerts and notifications system.”
“That explains it. How long have you been signed up to get them?”
“About a month now, back when the markets really started going haywire. The alerts have been a life saver, I get one and I immediately start moving money around, you know getting out of some stocks and finding the safe havens to weather the storms. Then I move everything back a day or two later on the rebound.”
“Given the thousand point swings in the markets you must be pretty busy,” I said.
He nodded and sighed, “It’s exhausting.”
“This thing has got you so hooked now you’re just reacting like a madman every time there’s a market move. Heck, I hope you at least turned if off over the holidays.”
Wilson’s eyes bulged. “When were the holidays?” he asked.