By Daniel Dunaief

Back in the day when I covered Wall Street and spoke with power-broking bankers, mergers and acquisitions experts, and traders, I often chatted with people who had little to no time.

As often as I could, I’d catch someone in the midst of an exciting transaction. I pictured them standing at their desks, staring at papers, looking closely at the clock, and envisioning various life or community-altering transactions, such as multi-billion dollar mergers.

The information would be even better, of course, if other journalists hadn’t yet heard the news, giving me the chance to be first.

Some of my sources would share juicy tidbits, about a company, a strategic move, or a new hire. The cadence of their voice was often quick and clipped and the tone was close to a conspiratorial whisper, with the volume inversely proportional to the importance of the developing story.

They would often be eager to get off the phone so they could continue to rule the world, to collect multi-million dollar fees and to prepare to help other companies keep up with the fast-merging world by moving other pieces on the financial chess board.

A few seconds after sharing the final details, they would invariably use a two word signal that meant that the conversation, whether I liked it or not, was ending.

“Gotta hop!” they’d say. It was a universally understood code for, “I’m not hanging up on you, per se, but those are the last sounds you’ll hear from me on this call.”

During busy days on Wall Street, I’d picture investment bankers in expensive suits, hopping on one foot from building to building, keeping one leg in the air as they frantically finalized details and collected signatures.

Once they reached their destination, I imagined them putting the non-hopping leg down comfortably on the ground, while massaging the one that propelled them around the lower part of Manhattan.

Wall Street hasn’t cornered the market on signals that a conversation is coming to a close.

People in the Main Street world say they “gotta run.”

Sometimes, out of politeness, someone will indicate that he or she has another important call coming in that’s related to the topic at hand.

In more personal and familiar settings, my friends and family have various codes that suggest they are preparing to end a conversation.

An audible sigh is usually the equivalent of, “okay, let’s wrap things up here.”

Then, there’s the long, slow version of “alright,” which suggests that, fun as this conversation might have been, it’s time to end the call.

I appreciate the moment when people appear to want to be sensitive to me when they’re ready to disengage. That typically includes some version of, “I’m gonna let you get back to work or whatever it is you’re doing” when, more often than not, they have to return to something.

Of course, I have been on the other side of this disengagement effort, when someone who is on a long drive is not only eager for company but is also prepared to share, stream-of-consciousness style, everything they see and comment on the driving skills of everyone around them.

“What is that red car thinking?” they’ll ask. “Did you see that?”

“No, you see, the way the phone works, I can only hear your voice. I’m not looking through a body worn camera at the road ahead of you, but I’m sure the red car did something stupid and it’s great that you’re such a skilled defensive driver.”

I sometimes try to wrap up these calls with something like, “well, it’s been nice chatting with you.”

“Yes,” they’ll reply. “It’s nice chatting with you, too. So, what do you think of the presidential election?”

“Oh, um, I think it’s a good idea every four years or so. More often than that would become too hectic and stressful for the country.”

“No, I mean, what are your top 15 issues for the election this year.”

“I’d love to share them with you, but I have to hop and I want to give you a chance to get back to driving and someone is waiting to take a run with me, so, I’m gonna go.”