He's the CEO of Blackstone Group, the massive private equity firm that's about to go public, and he points out to the WSJ that when going after deals, he wants to "inflict pain" on and "kill off" his rivals. Er, yeah. The Journal figures that Schwarzman is worth around $7.5 billion (that includes a 23 percent stake in Blackstone he'll hold onto), so he's obviously had success doing away with the competition. Of course, he also comes across as a complete jerk.
Once, while sunning by the pool at his 11,000-square-foot home in Palm Beach, Fla., he complained to Jean-Pierre Zeugin, his executive chef and estate manager, that an employee wasn't wearing the proper black shoes with his uniform, according to Mr. Zeugin, who says he has great admiration for his boss. Mr. Schwarzman explains that he found the squeak of the rubber soles distracting. He expects lunches consisting of cold soup, a cold entrée such as lobster salad or fresh grilled tuna on salad, followed by dessert, Mr. Zeugin says. He eats the three-course meal within 15 minutes, the chef says. Mr. Zeugin says he often spends $3,000 for a weekend of food for Mr. Schwarzman and his wife, including stone crabs that cost $400, or $40 per claw. (Mr. Schwarzman says he had no idea how much the crabs cost.) Recently, Mr. Zeugin has been ill and is no longer working, although he is still on Mr. Schwarzman's payroll.
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The seeds of Mr. Schwarzman's approach to business were sown in Philadelphia. There, as a 15-year-old, he worked weekends in his family's store, called Schwarzman's. He says he urged his father to open more stores, and grew frustrated when his dad, content with their middle-class lifestyle, refused. His grandfather, who opened the business, "said I should keep folding towels and handkerchiefs and stand up straight and protect the good name of Schwarzman's," he recalls. "I didn't want to be a retailer. I hated to wait on people." In school, Mr. Schwarzman ran track and played basketball. To compensate for his size, former teammates say, he drew up complicated basketball plays and strategies. Later, for intramural soccer games at Harvard Business School, he devised "elaborate triangular formations that were not flawed in conception but that nobody was capable of executing," says Jeffrey Rosen, Mr. Schwarzman's roommate and now a deputy chairman of investment bank Lazard Freres & Co.
You might wonder why a guy like this would want the glare and disclosure requirements of a public company? Well, according to the Journal story, he hasn't the slightest intention of instituting the usual corporate governance restrictions - stuff like having a majority of independent directors. "The little man has cracked the code in how to be a private company in the clothing of a public company," an unnamed former associate told the paper (note the former part - there must be a lot of formers walking around). Oh by the way, he expects to collect $677.2 million from the offering.