BIG FOUR ARE PARADISE

EARLY NOT SO EARLY MORNING

It's Monday morning, 10:30AM, and Kevin’s alarm clock blares the tune of his dreaded reality: another week at one of the Big Four – the self-proclaimed Titans of Consulting. Kevin, an underworked yet perpetually over-impressed consulting analyst, rubs the sleep from his eyes, questioning if the blend of existential dread mixed with caffeine jitters is worth the branded swag and the LinkedIn clout.

Kevin was, in his own mind, a titan among mortals. Dragging himself to the mirror, Kevin adjusts his tie with the precision of a heart surgeon performing open-heart surgery. After all, appearances are everything, and at the Big Four, you never know when you might accidentally video call yourself into a career-defining meeting while trying to order UberEats.
His daily rituals in his studio apartment, strategically located just a five-minute walk from the office (because owning a car was just too pedestrian for him).  Included affirming his own greatness in the mirror of "Today," he'd say, puffing his chest in the reflection, "you’re not just a consultant. You are the consultant. Move over, bankers; the real money is in advice."
 

Kevin’s daily commute is a breathtaking odyssey through a jungle of spreadsheets, pie charts, and the ever-ominous client emails marked as 'urgent'. He can’t help but compare this to his friend Chad’s riveting tales from investment banking. Chad, who works the mythical ‘banker hours’ from sunrise to the next sunrise, always has the sparkle of Wall Street warfare in his eyes, or maybe that's just sleep deprivation.

As Kevin logs into his computer, his inbox is already a warzone of CC’d emails, passive-aggressive reminders from HR about the annual "mandatory fun" dodgeball tournament, and an e-invite to a workshop titled “Leveraging Synergies to Facilitate Dynamic Innovations”. He can feel his soul leaving his body as he RSVPs ‘Yes’ with the enthusiasm of a sloth on sedatives.

NOON/AFTERNOON

Then comes the highlight of his day: the team meeting. Here, buzzwords fly around like mosquitoes in a swamp. "Think outside the box," says one manager, while another obsesses over "low-hanging fruit". Kevin contemplates if fruits are really what’s missing from his spreadsheet. He scribbles in his notepad “Apples, Oranges… possibly Pears?”

Just as he’s about to drown in the sea of corporate jargon, Kevin receives a message from Chad: “Bro, just closed a deal worth $500M. Lmk if you ever get tired of playing with PowerPoint and want to join the big leagues.” Kevin’s heart sinks. His last big assignment was making a PowerPoint on why the company should switch from 2% milk to almond milk in the break room. The thrill was palpable.

By lunchtime, Kevin's spirit has been nourished by three cups of mediocre office coffee and a granola bar he found at the bottom of his drawer. The rest of his day is a blur of meetings about meetings, where strategies are discussed to strategize future strategic meetings.

The afternoon was reserved for client calls. Kevin quickly learned that 'client-facing' meant putting on a headset and nodding while muted, as senior partners did all the talking. During these calls, he perfected the art of looking intensely thoughtful, a skill he was certain would pay dividends at his next performance review.

Kevin had convinced himself that his insights were the gold standard at CONSLURPING COFFEE & CO., despite his paychecks stubbornly refusing to breach the six-figure ceiling—a matter he attributed to the firm's oversight rather than his own capabilities. He regarded his colleagues, who toggled between Excel spreadsheets and PowerPoint tweaks, as players in a symphony he conducted. 
 

EVENING

As the sun sets—an event Kevin observed from the reflections on neighboring buildings since his cubicle offered no direct view of the outside world—the real work began. The 'Big Four' after all, did not refer to the number of hours one worked but perhaps to the number of dinners missed.

As Kevin populated slides for a presentation that no client would read fully, he received another text from Chad, who simply wrote, “Still at the office?” Kevin chuckled. Bankers, with their glamorous all-nighters and seven-figure deals, didn’t know the quiet desperation of crafting the perfect slide on market penetration strategies for a mid-sized sock company.

Before he turns off his monitor, a new email pops up, subject: “Opportunity to Shine – Toilet Paper Requisition Strategy Enhancement Task Force”. Ah, responsibility at last! Kevin can’t wait to share this at Chad’s next rooftop soirée, surely this will put the bankers to shame.

Kevin packs up his belongings, his backpack slightly heavier with the weight of unmet potential. He walks past a motivational poster that reads “Teamwork makes the dream work!” and wonders whose dream they’re talking about because it surely isn’t his.

As he steps out of the office, the cool air hits his face, and the bipolar Kevin can’t help but think, “Big Fours are truly paradise, aren’t they?