Professional Staff Instructors live in hotels and airports. We even occasionally live at home. We also live out of suitcases. It’s a unique lifestyle and any regular business traveler can attest to what I’m talking about. Because of the peculiar lifestyle, there are things we do that while making sense to us, may not make sense to many people. Doing laundry for example. I get home Friday night and bring my suitcase into the laundry room. Dump everything from the suitcase into the washing machine. Never mind sorting clothes. Who’s got time for that!? Those same clothes go from the washer straight into the dryer. Straight from the dryer (don’t forget to clean the lint catcher!) back into the suitcase. Folding and ironing. Are you outta your mind? Who cares? You’re just going to have to iron your clothes at the hotel anyway. I can usually complete this process by Sunday afternoon. Suitcase back in the car Sunday night and drive back Monday morning to the same airport I left on Friday night. If I’m lucky, I haven’t forgotten anything….like my brain. My sanity is another issue. I can usually fake that at my destination.
Airports are fun too. Can’t help but have a love/hate relationship with these places. They’re kinda like your hygienically challenged cousin (intense body odor and hellacious halitosis) who can get you a great deal on appliances. You love the benefits of the relationship, but you hate being around them. Gotta love that airport food too. It’s actually improved quite a bit in the last decade or so, but I have trouble justifying paying ten dollars for a sandwich wrapped in plastic.
Flying is another animal altogether. If you’re lucky, when you check in, they assign you an early boarding sequence and you get some prime overhead bin space for your carry-ons. If not, you fake a seizure at the gate and board early anyway. (Believe me, it works). Flight attendants come in all different shapes and sizes. They come in different intelligence levels as well. During my last flight I was looking out the window trying to identify the city 30,000 feet below me. I asked the flight attendant if he knew. “I’m sure I don’t know.” He replied. “Besides, I was never very good at Geometry.” I smiled and said, “Maybe not, but that English degree is really working out for you.” Approaching our destination city, the pilot announces for the umpteenth time that they appreciate our business and thanks for choosing “Nearly Bankrupt Airlines”. I feel like leaping into the cockpit and yelling that it wasn’t my actual choice and that if I actually had a choice I would find it more expedient to crawl to my destination city. Wanting to avoid a trip to Guantanamo Garden Inn in beautiful sunny Cuba, I refrain.
I always try to get a room upgrade at the hotels I stay at. The worst they can say is, “No”. Getting an upgrade from a standard room to the same type room that has a mini-refrigerator is not what I consider an upgrade. Yet, that is their technical definition of an upgrade. Fill that mini-fridge with complimentary smoked salmon and champagne and you have my attention.
Despite my complaints, I love being “on the road”. It’s either that or work in an office. If I had a choice, I’d rather spend a month on the road than a day in an office. Most traveling professional trainers would probably agree with me. We are a unique breed and we carry on despite the difficulties. Now, if we could only duplicate ourselves and be in two places at once. Home with family and away with customers. The best of both worlds!
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