A View from My Window Seat
October 6, 2009 – 7:35 pmA day of travel: planes, pleasure reading, and my own earbud-induced bubble of sonic bliss. I can see my final airport destination from my window seat, and the plane descends from 30,000 feet above the earth.
At the baggage claim, I phone a colleague who’s plans have changed. They’ve already grabbed a cab for the conference hotel. I gather my belongings and decide to catch a cab instead of picking up my rental car.
In the taxi, I’m transported in air-conditioned darkness as the driver navigates the streets. I arrive at my resort destination more than $50 later and after a sweet tip, I pull my own gear out of the trunk and pile it on. The bellhops go after the suits. The taxi driver waits in the car for me to unload.
In the hotel lobby, I wheel past well-heeled C-level types: captains of industry. I see an old client of my company, and head him off.
“You look rugged,” he says, “the explorer type. What is all that stuff?”
“It’s my business duds, my camera, my mobile edit bay.”
My friend is in middle-aged retirement, completely over the conference circuit.
“I’m thinking about hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro,” he says. And he means it.
What a life. We talk shop for moment, and then he yells past me.
“Barbara!”
My friend waves to his acquaintance, walking through the lobby toward the bar, and then turns back to me.
“Excuse me Chad, but she’s prettier than you. Be good now.”
And that was that.
I’m now in a sports bar, drinking California wine, listening to all of the insurance talk. And the British accents that frequent this conference.
I’ve been off the conference circuit for about seven months. It’s a strangely comfortable place that has represented the last few years of my life. Booze, frequent flier miles and risk management.
Insurance. What kicks.