That time I Almost Went to Work for Investors Group

The year was 2004, and I was desperate to get into the finance industry.

I was fascinated with all things finance. I was investing in real estate, reading everything related to investing I could get my hands on, and making sure I watched BNN (then ROBTV) each morning.

The problem was I didn’t really know where to start. I went to see various local investment advisors who mostly laughed me out of the room when I asked how a young guy with interest in this stuff could break into the industry. They all gave me some pretty unsatisfying advice — take the Canadian Securities Course (which I did), fire your resume out there, and hope someone hires you. Investing yourself or being interested in stocks wasn’t really that important.

Undaunted, I still craved a role in the industry. Even back then I loved cracking open annual reports and reading all about a business, although I knew deep inside I didn’t know what I was doing. That’s why I mostly stuck to investing in real estate, an area where I had at least a little bit of knowledge.

I thought that I could get a role in the investment industry, learn while I was working, and be analyzing stocks for a bank or hedge fund in just a few years. That might sound pretty ludicrous in 2024 but in 2004 there wasn’t Twitter or blogs or much of anything that could give me the answers I craved. I legitimately didn’t know.

Kids, take it from me. You’re in a FAR better place than I was. You have access to thousands of finance professionals that are happy to help out a newbie. I had like four — and all four were nothing but elaborate salespeople who had the minimum education requirements and a big organization behind them.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I didn’t know any of that back then, so I viewed going to work for one of these big companies as my ticket in. Which is why I was so excited to see a job posting in the local paper — the local Investors Group branch was looking for an investment advisor.

The interview process

I can’t understate how excited I was about this opportunity. It was all I thought about for days afterwards.

I remember tweaking, reading, and rereading my resume, taking the time needed to make it perfect. I faxed it in — a thing we did back then, youths — and waited patiently for the phone to ring.

Soon enough, the call came, and I was invited down to the local office (a converted house) for an interview with someone from the regional office. This was a bit of a surprise for me, since I assumed I’d be working with the local guy and thought he’d be leading the interview process.

I quickly found out I assumed incorrectly. I’d be working out of an office about two hours away, splitting my time between my home town and that larger community. My job would be to work with young people and those with small portfolios while the main people in the office focused on those with larger portfolios. I’d also spend a lot of time cold-calling prospective clients.

Don’t worry, they said, it would be easy. I’d have a script and everything.

Naturally, I had a million questions and to my credit, I asked just about all of them. Normally young Nelson would clam up around authority and not delve as deeply as I should, so I was proud of myself. In hindsight these questions brought up lots of red flags, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I was just thrilled to be there.

One of the big things I was worried about was what a typical day would look like. Would I have time to research stocks? Would I be learning?

Oh, I’d be learning alright. I’d be learning how to sell high-fee mutual funds, life insurance, mortgages (with awful interest rates), and other such products. I’d be assigned clients and I’d meet with them to “assess their financial needs.” When I saw they needed investment products or insurance I’d use the opportunity to sell those products.

Okay, I thought, I can live with that. What’s the pay?

Since most everything was commission, the sky was the limit. I was regaled by stories of advisors who made multiple six-figures each year, which was a buttload of money back in 2004. Since I’d soon reach that level based on my solid sales skillz, I learned the company made a very modest salary offer to new hires — minimum wage for three months while you learn, then it’s all commission.

Despite these multiple red flags — I didn’t want a sales job, I didn’t have a car, I’d be taking a big pay cut for something very uncertain — I pressed on, and soon there was a second interview.

This one was definitely harder than the first, and the interviewer asked some tough questions. I was told the job entailed selling to people so, at a minimum, I’d need to sell myself.

Not in that way. Pervs.

This is when I really started to get second thoughts. I had recently gotten my parents out of expensive mutual funds after realizing how much they paid in fees every year. And then I’d be selling these to investors who didn’t really want them in the first place? I knew how badly fees impacted regular investors.

Despite all this in the back of my mind, I somehow passed the second interview with flying colours. I was presented with a homework assignment before my final interview — I needed to talk to 50 people I knew and see if they’d invest with me.

I went home, got on the phone, and started calling. And let me tell you guys — it was one of the most uncomfortable things I’ve ever done. People were mystified — why would I be calling when I didn’t even have the job? It was pretty clear they were uncomfortable, and so was I.

I didn’t even have the job yet and I was expected to bring in business. Weren’t they supposed to do that for me?

I phoned a half dozen people, got — at best — lukewarm responses, and threw up my hands in frustration. I did what any rational person would do — I made up the rest. I had a stack of 50 leads that I pretended were absolutely thrilled I would be selling them investments.

The final boss

The next week I went up to the regional office for my final interview with the big boss. Don’t worry, I was assured, this would be nothing more than a formality, since my original interviewer liked me and had recommended me for the job.

I’ll never forget it. If I thought the second interview was tough, this one would take the cake. It’s still, by far, the worst I’ve ever been treated in an interview.

About six seconds after shaking my hand my interviewer started chastising me about what I wore. I was wearing the exact thing I wore to the first interview (nice polo, dress pants) and pretty much what I’d seen the local rep wearing around town. This wouldn’t do, he said. Who’s going to buy life insurance from some guy in a golf shirt? You have to look better than your customer for them to respect you.

Next issue was my lack of car. The conversation went something like this:

“Why don’t you have a car? You’ll need a car for the job.”

“I live close enough to work I can walk, plus I’d rather save that money and put it away for the future. I thought maybe a car would be provided if I needed one for the job.”

“Uhhhh no. We pay mileage.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to buy one.”

“You’ll have to buy something nice. You can’t pull up to a client’s house in a shitbox.”

“Oh. I was told I’d be meeting clients at the office.”

“You’ll meet clients wherever we tell you to.”

Hoooookay

The first two issues weren’t enough for this guy. Next he tore into my leads. They were “fucking garbage” because I phoned guys I knew instead of guys with money.

Annoyed and more than a little bit hurt by this point, I started to push back. Why should I ask 50 people if I don’t even have the job yet? And what happens if word gets back to my existing boss that I’m asking people we both know if they’d work with me at my new job? I was upset I’d gone to all this (imaginary) work for what was increasingly looking like no payoff.

I didn’t get real answers to my questions, since the interview was basically over at that point. He halfheartedly thanked me for coming and I left with my head down and my proverbial tail between my legs.

I got all the way back to the car before I realized something — that asshole kept my leads. 

The bottom line

My despair lasted about two hours before I realized I’d dodged a major bullet. Whoever that anonymous Investors Group regional manager was did me a huge favour.

There was no way I’d succeed in that line of work. It didn’t suit me at all. I didn’t have the personality nor would I ever try to impress people with pretend wealth.

Someone else was hired for the job, and she was a much better choice than I was. As far as I know she’s still working for them, all these years later. I’m also fairly certain one of her first tasks was to call my leads, so hopefully none of them were too annoyed by that.

I continued to read about finance and then, years later, when blogs first became a thing I started one about finance. I used that to start a little business writing for other blogs. I then leveraged that into a full-time job freelance writing.

It took a decade after that uncomfortable experience, but I was able to get into the finance industry. Sort of, anyway. I just took an unconventional path to get there.

It’s funny how much different it is now. If 21-year-old Nelson was interested in a finance career and didn’t know where to start today, all he’d have to do is go on the ol’ Tweeter app and start asking questions. It’s really a game changer.

But, at the same time, I’m grateful I took the path I did. I was able to learn at my own pace and with my own money. I remember reading stock pitches in 2010 or 2011 and thinking I’d never be able to write something that good. But I slowly worked at it, kept learning, and eventually I surpassed many of those people. That’s a neat feeling.

So thank you, Investors Group. If you didn’t suck so much, my life might’ve been much different than it is now, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out.

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