Chronicles of a Crypto Trader
When I first heard the markets siren call I had grabbed the bull by it's horns, walking out on my family so I could pursue the honeyed dreams they seemed to promise. How could I know then just how crazy things were going to get?
It hadn't taken me long to figure out the trading learning curve and now my trades were more than covering my nut almost every time. I had started smoking again and man it felt good. My past self seemed like a half man. Now I lived for trades, squiggles and dead cat bounces.
Contact
I was sitting in a cafe drinking a triple espresso with brown sugar. My body seemed to reject anything with less caffeine in it these days since my first trading revelation. I was immersed in my smartphone's blockfolio app, charts scrolling by. Markets moving up and down. I barely noticed the non-descript man sidling into the seat across from me until he spoke.
"You think you're a trader", he rasped matter of factly.
I snorted, who was this candy ass? "Do I know you?"
He didn't reply, just gazed at me over his steel rimmed glasses. I took stock, he wore a Hugo Boss suit over a lean frame and had a hungry angular face.
Our eyes remained locked, neither of us breaking the impasse for almost a minute before he snorted and made to get up, shaking his head slightly. What was this? Had I failed something?
"Wait," I barked.
He paused, tilting his head to one side, "One chance then," he said softly. "Shadowcoin?"
"Bull'ing up."
"Monero?" he stated, raising an eyebrow.
"Yesterday's news." I said without thinking.
"Bold talk, so very bold," he smirked and gazed at me again. "We will be in touch."
"Who will?" I countered.
"All in good time." He stood, taller than I had realised and leaned over till his lips brushed against my ear. "You're one of us now."
Day Trading
And so I was in. Gradually over the coming weeks I received cryptic, terse communications. Dead drops and meetings; hotel bars and shady alleys. We were Bittrex, it was how I had been chosen. The enemy? Other exchanges, with their false rates and commissions. The bigger picture was still unclear but I began to fill in the blanks of the ongoing struggle, there was talk of 'The gnomes of Zurich'. It was clear that this was no game, not just about making money.
I carried on trading. "Buy on the dip" one of my shadowy handlers advised. One day I was doing just that when I got a call on my burner phone..
Fill and Kill
A weasel faced man barged into the rest room barking on his phone, "I dont care, Polo says there will be a dawn raid. We have to get in first," he glanced at his wrist, "We've got two hours, start buying." He noticed me drying my hands on a paper towel by the mirror and self consciously snapped his phone closed.
"Poloniex?" I said casually.
He froze. Turning towards me he shrugged his shoulders uneasily. "What's that friend?" His cheerful tone somewhat forced.
I gestured to his phone "Polo.."
His eyes widened in an instant and his hand darted under his jacket. But too late. My Glock was already drawn.
"Bittrex says hello, motherfucker". My gun boomed twice, then there was silence. I crouched down, taking his phone from the floor beside his bloodied corpse.
Nobody said trading was gonna be easy.
To be continued..
If you missed Part 1 - @meesterboom/a-stark-warning-to-new-online-crypto-traders