I was three years into my career on Wall Street before the acronym F.B.T. had any relevance for me. It stands for Fake Business Trip, and there were two reasons why it didn’t really register: One, I didn’t have a wife or family; two, I wasn’t at a level that required traveling to see clients. I think if I’d suggested to my boss that I needed to go on a business trip, she would have asked me who would be picking up lunch every day before she said “no.”

I was working at Morgan Stanley when I learned this part of the Wall Street rope. It went down like this: I was sitting in Citi (as in Par-tay), our favorite Happy Hour spot, when a senior broker handed me a beer. “I’m taking an F.B.T.,” he said after a sip of his vodka rocks. “Between my clients and my family, I think I’m going nuts.” I’d met his wife and two young kids and thought they were very nice, but I also knew he had a very hectic schedule. He looked at me quizzically. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” he said. I shook my head no. He took another sip of his vodka, then said: “Let me break it down for you.”

Here are the keys to a successful F.B.T:

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