Imagine for the moment that you are Sandy Weill.  You’ve had to sit back and watch as two princes and some tiny man in a bandit mask (I picture Vikram standing at roughly the same height as actor Deep Roy, don’t ask me why) took the banking giant you helped create and drove it not only into the ground, but clear out the other side where Chinese people were terribly confused by the bank that just popped out of the ground with a wee man riding it like Slim Pickens at the end of Dr. Strangelove.  You’re probably pretty horrified at what’s transpired in the years since the bank’s board forced you out, and have often thought to yourself, “Boy, if they thought things were bad then…”  Now, no matter what you do or where you go, your name is immediately associated with fail on a level rarely seen since the Bubonic plague.  If all that weren’t bad enough, now you’re having to give up your retirement perks so maybe that bank you used to run that one time can stay, you know, out of bankruptcy.

Weill, 75, has received around $3 million a year from the company in pension, consulting fees, tax compensation and other perks.

But he and his wife also receive full medical and dental coverage, life insurance, a company car and driver and use of the company’s private jets. Citi also was paying for Weill’s swanky private office in the General Motors Building.

Sadly, the lease on the office at GM’s Fifth Avenue building represented the only income on that company’s books, so there are just victims left and right here.  Yes, Weill – who was given 16.6 million shares of C when he left, with options for 4 million more, all of which are currently worth about nine dollars – may have to pay for his own car and driver and fly commercial, although he has said that he will under no circumstances surrender his helper monkeys.

While the linked article outright states that Weill gave up these perks voluntarily as a gesture of goodwill to help keep Citi afloat, I’d like a show of hands from everyone who believes that this was his idea, or even Citi’s idea, and was not the subject of the same sort of angered late-night telephone call that makes a company on the public dole cancel its jet order.