Once upon a time, there was a managing director. I won’t go into his biography here, except to say that after being fired from a leading bank some years back for “inappropriate” conduct towards a female colleague, he managed to waltz straight into another City firm – ours. This “charmer” made plenty of the girls on the floor shriek – with much uncouth sniffing and undressing us with his eyes – and he illustrated the full extent of his arrogance this week when he was caught cheating with his personal trainer on his very lovely, very pregnant wife (yes, City boys are that predictable).

It spelt disaster for us. If you think you’ve seen a guy peeved when his team is losing millions, imagine what he’s like when faced with the prospect of those millions coming out of his own pocket. As his 12 o’clock shadow grew more grizzled by the minute, my colleagues avoided him like they would a leper in a cake shop. There was a “massive settlement” cloud hanging over his head and it looked fit to burst all over his bespoke¬ suit.

Mrs MD has not taken it elegantly, one might say. At her mildest, she calls 17 times a day to scream at the jerk, while at her most extreme she can be found stalking the gym, the scene of her husband’s indiscretions. If she’d hung around long enough, she’d have discovered the brute had been dumped by his fitness queen as well.

So ladies, you’re in luck. If you are a lovebird looking for the top billing in finance, step up and light this mister’s newly single torch. I know there are gals out there willing to take his heat – but they are indeed playing with fire. Because he will always be thinking: “I can have whoever I want. Why should I want the one who wakes up looking like an Ugly Sister? Who absent-mindedly polishes off a pint of Haagen-Dazs during ‘that’ time of month?”

Take any sample of high-status City players and you’ll find a disproportionate number of shallow assholes. For all you gals whose life purpose is to bag a banker, you’ve found your square mile of luck. But if you date shallow assholes, don’t be surprised when they act like, well, shallow assholes.

That’s life in the City.