Quote from jimmast:
On a very busy day in the old bond pit, before the new building was built every single person would be covered head to toe in sweat. There was a "slightly" out of shape arb clerk who often arrived hungover that would in the middle of all the chaos reach in his pants and load up his index finger with "fromunda" cheese. When a runner would arrive to pick up his firms paper fill, the arb clerk would teasingly pull back the paper as the runner was reaching for it and with his other hand wipe his index finger under the runners nose.
Imagine the initial confused look followed by confused disgust mixed with the hope that the smell wasn't what he feared it to be.
Not hard to believe the arb clerk's career never really seemed to take off.
This is one of a thousand old floor stories. If they weren't so distasteful you could probably write a book.