Actually, this is a double oops; first, the story itself, and second, that I’ve been sitting on this unfinished post for months. Here’s a short bit, but read the whole thing story of a commodities futures trade gone very, very wong:

Brad’s phone rang with the telltale tone of an inner-office call. “Yeah,” he briskly blurted out as he picked up the phone, “what’cha ya need?” That was actually his nice way of answering the phone. As the senior trader at Execor, one of the world’s largest energy trading companies, Brad didn’t need to impress anyone and, in his mind, displaying anything less than vicious hubris would be a sign of weakness.

“Err,” the receptionist nervously answers, “there’s a… err, delivery for you, sir. They–“

“Hmphf,” Brad’s scoff cut her off. “So just sign for it, then! Is that really that hard to do? You can do that, can’t you?”

“Well sir,” the receptionist winced, “they’re asking for mooring instructions? And we need to pay wharfage charges? They said you’d know. I’m at a loss.”

“Fine,” Brad scowled, “I guess I have to do everything around here!” He slammed down the phone and marched out of his corner office. Despite Execor’s location — the “old docks” district — their office was one of the most posh in the city. On one end of the expansive, former warehouse sat the executive suites, which had a tremendous view of the city skyline. The other end — where Brad was headed towards — was the reception which overlooked its own, private bay on the river.

“Okay, I’m here!” he angrily announced once he stepped foot in the lobby. “So let’s do this! What do I need to–“

Brad stopped mid-sentence. His eyes were immediately drawn through the floor-to-ceiling windows and onto the river bay that Execor’s building overlooked. There was an absolutely gigantic barge — nay, an armada of tightly-connected barges — overfilled with enormous piles of coal that was attempting to dock in front of the building. “What… the… fuuu–“