Jason Kim32:49
Whenever I think about things, my mind works by seeing interconnections between board games, jobs, or techniques. I see the overarching structure. The way I saw it, financial advisory was just a fancier version of insurance sales. You're talking to people about providing a service for a need. For financial advisory, it's almost always people with money. So it was a step up in glitz and glamour. A couple of times while doing insurance, customers would ask if I do financial advising, because State Farm pushed heavily on life insurance products that track the market. There was a slight overlay of insurance and finances. That always piqued my interest. I was fine with State Farm until they conducted a witch hunt. State Farm is like a mob boss; under the umbrella are all these agency offices, and agents are their employees. They turned a blind eye to shady practices until one day they decided to clean house. A lot of people, including myself, were unjustly fired. I had drunk the Kool-Aid — I thought State Farm was the best. But they kicked me out, so I decided to pursue financial advisory. I Google around and came across a program with Merrill Lynch, one of the most well-known names. It was called the FADP program. I got in because I had enough sales training and experience to sell myself. I sold myself to the guy who hired me. I really enjoyed it. I thrived on the whole 'look at me, I'm going to a fancy office' thing. I put on a suit, went to Midtown Atlanta, up to however many floors, into a small cubicle. They paid me an obscene amount — about $60,000 or $70,000 just to study for the Series exams. I wasn't even working; I was studying within the program and they paid me that much. That's crazy, but it just shows how much money they make.
I passed the Series 7 with flying colors — that's the harder of the two exams, testing on stocks, options, derivatives, market trends, analysis. The Series 66 is an ethics test, still not easy but not as technical. Between the Series 7 and 66, COVID happened. I didn't think it would affect me much. I thought I would finish the tests and enjoy it. Right before that, Merrill hosted their Christmas party — they rented out the entire top floor of a building, tons of amazing food, everyone dressed up. I was enjoying that life. Then the next month, literally crashed down to rock bottom. I was waking up in shorts and t-shirts, didn't feel like I had a real job. That's when I realized putting on a suit and going to the office really affected me mentally. I became demotivated to the point where I couldn't pass the easier 66 exam. I felt bad for my boss, who was a really good guy. It took a toll on me mentally. For what it's worth, Merrill Lynch and Bank of America are the same now. Since the financial meltdown, they have a bridge for people like me who have capabilities. They don't like to fire people; they hired them for a reason. So they gave me an opportunity to work in the banking sector at Bank of America. I did that for a bit, then tried to trend towards the sales end of banking as a bank advisor. I was slowly starting to enjoy office life again, not as fancy as financial advisory, but still a step back into it.
Coming out of COVID, I was at home so often, I started to think about doing something I enjoyed, something I was really good at. I grew up on computers since high school, so I wondered what it would be like to be a developer. I took a boot camp. I think it was the one at Ponce City Market, but I didn't know that these were all convoluted with third parties. It was supposed to be led by Georgia Tech, but obviously it was a third-party vendor. I did it through Georgia Tech, I guess. I really enjoyed it. I thought I was going to do well, and I was doing well, but I didn't realize how badly imposter syndrome would hit me. People kept telling me it's supposed to feel that way, but I was miserable. I don't like feeling like I don't know something; I thrive on knowing and teaching people. So I floated by. At startup, you get paid decently, they give you a fancy laptop, and a command center if you want to go into the office. I grew up a gamer, so I was into that lifestyle. But it started to feel extremely menial, and I didn't like the people I worked with either. Some of the leadership had a 'look at me, nothing gets done without me' attitude. It got to the point where the hiring manager, during my exit interview, acted extremely unprofessional. I couldn't process it — was he actually telling me off? He showed up just to tell me off. That's the kind of person he was.
After that, I fiddled with the idea of going back to insurance or trying to get my job back at Merrill Lynch. As I was coming out of it, I thought maybe I want to try a business. Then an opportunity fell into our laps. My in-laws were helping in the search. There was a very ambiguous listing about a store. When Susanna's mom described it, she read it as a government building with a small convenience stand. I imagined a nice office with government workers stopping by for coffee. It turned out to be a stall at Ponce City Market — a full-on grocery store. When we first showed up, we thought, 'No way I'm going to do this.' But for some reason, it caught my attention. I thought, 'I think I could actually do this.' That was a little bit of hubris and naivety, which was the worst combination. It was probably the biggest mistake of my life.