Ah, summer. A time when Wall Street unbuttons its shirt, kicks off its shoes and heads for the Hamptons. So what books are they stuffing in their weekend bags?

We checked in with traders, bankers, analysts and hedge funders. Here were some of the best answers:

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Casual Friday is supposed to be fun and relaxed in the white-collared world. But on Wall Street, there are unwritten rules that must be followed or else…

It’s not like wearing a pair of jean shorts could cost you a $500,000 bonus — well, actually, maybe it could. Casual Friday is not your friend. What you choose to wear on this day can’t make you, but it can BREAK you.

In 1996, when I was at Morgan Stanley, they sent around a company-wide email announcing Casual Friday. My first thought was great! My second was, what am I going to wear??? The email didn’t go into detail. “Business casual” was the term used.

That morning, I put on my khakis, blue button-down shirt and nice loafers, hopped in a cab and went to the office. I played it safe — right down the middle. We would later call this, “The Wall Street Jumpsuit.”

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In the Hamptons, Wall Street loves to spend their money. And if Memorial Day weekend is any indication, it’s going to be raining Benjamins all summer long.

This past weekend, Range Rovers were everywhere … gourmet market Citarella and Starbucks (new in Southampton) were in FULL swing … Ostentation was percolating, but not boiling yet …

I hit up some Wall Street friends across the age spectrum to find out what’s hot and how much they’re spending in the Hamptons this summer. Here’s a quick and unscientific poll:

Age: 25-29 — Transportation: Train or Jitney; Housing: Share house; Discretionary weekend spending: $1500 — the bulk of their spending is in the club.

Age: 30-40 — Transportation: car, car service and helicopter; Housing: own or rental; Discretionary weekend spending: $5,000 — the bulk of their spending is on everything.

Age: 40-50 — Transportation: helicopter or car; Housing: own; Discretionary weekend spending: $3000 — the bulk of their spending is on food, golf and transportation.

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When speaking about escorts, Charlie Sheen once said, “I don’t pay them for sex, I pay them to leave.” And, like Sheen, a lot of Wall Street guys don’t need to pay for sex either, but they’d rather.

“When I’m looking for a wife, I don’t call an escort; so, when I’m looking for sex, I don’t call a civilian,” Jay, a senior sales trader, told me.

So, why do some Wall Street guys love calling hookers? There are four basic reasons: 1) quality, 2) confidentiality 3) ease and 4) They can let their freak flags fly.

“You can do things you’d never ask your girlfriend to do,” Jay added. “A lot of the younger guys on my desk like to boast they don’t have to pay for sex. But they don’t get it. It’s like a business deal. And both parties are happy.”

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I know guys on their way to prison, currently in prison, out of prison and a lot who never got caught.

Four years ago, my former boss, Raj Rajaratnam, received 11 years, which, at the time, was the longest sentence ever handed down for violating insider-trading laws. But the people serving the longest sentences are those who cooperated with the FBI.

On the streets, it’s called a snitch. Downtown, they call it an informant.

And when the FBI decides they want you, they pounce quickly. They sneak up behind you while you’re in line at Starbucks and wait until it’s your turn to order. And then, when the cashier asks you how you take your coffee, they’ll answer for you: “Two sugars and cream… Can you come with us?” It’s a common tactic used by the authorities. Personally I know four people this has happened to — two at Starbucks, one at Dunkin Donuts and one at a Subway sandwich shop. And none of them had any idea it was coming.

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“I don’t want to go to jail,” is a statement often heard on a trading desk. Sometimes it’s said jokingly, but other times it has more merit. The fear of doing hard time bounces from the conscious to the subconscious for an aggressive trader. It never goes away.

And who wants to go to prison? Not a Wall Street executive. I don’t think penny loafers and sweater vests go over very well down in the yard. And a front-row ticket to the Jay Z & Eminem concert last spring doesn’t buy you street cred on the inside. It’s a scary thought.

Even when you do things by the book; there’s always a level of fear on Wall Street.

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