I have made a discovery this week: business travel kinda' sucks.
I know this isn't news to those of you who have had occasion to travel for business more than twice in your career, but this was a relatively new concept for me. I spent this week on the road, first in Las Vegas for a meeting of our Sales team (excuse me: Partner Marketing team), then for a day of work in Chicago. I parked at the Avis employee parking, and took the shuttle in as if I had just returned a car. I can do this (and therefore park for free) because I am an employee of Avis' parent company. So right away, I've saved the company about $50-60. Yay, me. I kept the first evening's meal expenditures fairly reasonable, as well (though my own personal funds didn't fare so well at the blackjack table, but that's a different story). Trying to save the company money, and all, as that's what a good employee does, right?
Next, I felt just a little guilty about the drinks I was charging on the corporate AmEx card that first night. That guilt was obliterated the next night (as was my common sense) with the arranged dinner at Rum Jungle in the Mandalay Bay hotel. Not a bad place, that. It's one of those Brazilian steakhouses, where they parade out a giant skewer of meat, carve it up and place it on a platter to be passed around the table. They mix a pretty tasty rum punch there, as well. I ordered a couple, and was still a little surprised when I didn't have to pay that part of the bill myself. I shouldn't be, I know, but it's not second nature for me yet.
After the Rum Jungle, many of us meandered next door to Red Square, a bar that has a Russian bent to it, and features far-too-many types of vodka. I heard someone mention that people were heading into the side room, so my chat-mates and I followed suit. They've got a round room, maybe 15 feet in diameter, which is kept chilled at whatever temperature is perfect for vodka. That is, until the 40 of us crowded in there. Many of us were having fun trying on the furry hats and coats and military hats that were apparently available in the "vodka locker". When I reached for a full bottle of chocolate vodka (as my British teammate had just polished of the few drops left in the last bottle), the manager-type man told me I couldn't touch that. No worry, but why? I asked. Seems the locker is available for rent for an hour at the reasonable rate of $3,000, or you can buy a single bottle of vodka to enjoy in there for $250, which is what our VP had done. I glanced over, and counted at least 8 open bottles. Now, math isn't my strong point, but I'm thinking that's more cold cash that he intended to stamp on his corporate AmEx. Add a little more callousness to my budget conscience.
The following night (and final one together as a group) had us trekking to The Palms for dinner at Little Buddha. In the spirit of mingling and not palling around with the same new set of friends every night (as many of my cohorts were doing), I chose a seat at a table that, at the time, had one other seat claimed. By the time we all sat down, I found myself at a table of executives who (rightfully) were talking very high-level business and networking (read: shmoozing). I am not, by nature, a networker, nor do I have one iota of opinion to contribute to a VP's discussion of our merger strategy, so I sat there, VERY uncomfortable and lonely, waiting for that moment when we were excused and I could go find someone on my level to talk to. Ugh.
The following day, I checked out and made my way to the airport (after borrowing $20 from my boss -- but that's another long story), where I learned that my flight to Chicago was already delayed. By the time we got in the air, it was 3 hours later than we'd planned. I accepted a very nice man's offer of a taxi to the hotel, only to discover that "taxi" doesn't necessarily mean "cab". As far as stretch limos go, I've been in nicer, but it got me there nonetheless. A meal alone in the bar, and I was up to my room to spend some quality time with whatever channel I could deal with. Oh, how I longed for a quick phone call to a friend, or a nice movie.
I had a very long walk in the bitter cold morning air in Chicago (I think it was about 5°) on the advice of my doorman (note to self: it DOES make a difference whether it's East or South Wacker Drive), and finally caught a cab for what turned out to be the final 5 blocks toward our office. The majority of the day was spent in small conference rooms (we kept having to move, because there wasn't one available for a long block of time), which doesn't do a lot for your will to go on.
The bright spot of this whole trip turned out to be the last 20 hours or so, when I was able to contact an acquaintance (now a friend) who lives in the city. I really was just hoping for a recommendation on where I might go for dinner, but he schlepped all the way downtown, and took me to a very hip little diner where we had more than a couple of martinis and quite a lot of brilliant conversation. Okay, he suggested the place, I picked up the tab (the company's paying for my half; I can cover his -- especially since he had to pay for the cab there -- it all relates to that other story I mentioned 2 paragraphs ago). Much to my delight, he also came down the next morning to help me find a very hip little breakfast spot, then gave me a short driving tour of the city. All in all, I had much more enjoyment out of those few hours than I did in all the time I spent eating and drinking on someone else's expense account (though watching the hungover misery of my VP had it's giggles).
(I was about to write "If I could have a John in every city, it'd be great, but it occurred to me that this is not the message I meant to put forward. Especially not in any proximity to the words "Las" and "Vegas". Let's try that thought process again.)
If every city I had to travel to on business had someone as great as John has been, business travel could be almost enjoyable. But sadly, he's only in this town, and I don't know anyone else in other cities that I'm likely to travel to. (Malcolm, I just don't think there's any reason for them to send me to San Francisco). The good part is, I'm certain I'll be back in the Windy City again soon, so John will have to put up with being a tour guide at least once more. But this time, the martini's on you. ;)