The Meeting on the Move

To me, it's seriously cool how I can pick up and move to anywhere in the US that has cell phone service and a WiFi and continue to work with virtually seamless transition.  In fact, while flying back from Utah a few weeks ago, I even used in-flight WiFi to continue working and keeping in contact from the plane.  Of course, sitting in the last row of  "Cattle" Class in a non-reclining chair and wedged in between the window and a comatose woman who was unwittingly using me to prop herself up, typing on a laptop that could only be opened 75% required some innovation and double-jointed elbows.  But the fact that it only cost $12.95 (slightly less than a bag of airline peanuts) for unlimited WiFi, particularly on a 4.5 hour flight that was not equipped to show the much anticipated "The A-Team," made the flight both quick and enjoyable. 

With all the mobility and technology, the Achillies' Heel in this setup is the fact that no matter where I go, I'm potentially a victim of my environment.  Relocating to the library is nice and quiet, but you can't take conference calls there.  Your local franchise Donut purveyors now offer free WiFi (though interestingly a popular Seattle-based coffee location still charges you) but the seats aren't comfortable, the tables barely fit my laptop and they have become the new hang out for the over 80's crowd who gather to complain about the weather, the price of everything, and go into excruciating detail, at ear-splitting decibel levels, about their latest trip to some specialist ('I told the doctor, "Forget my prostate! Check this out!"').

My personal favorite are the big book stores.   Most book stores now come complete with coffee houses and Barrista's willing to pour you a $37 latte with extra foam.  The current etiquette, if you care to follow it,  is that you should buy a drink or something every so often for occupying their space and using their network.  Unfortunately, after a while, all that half-caf grande skim moccachinno with whip and a shake (no, I don't want shaved chocolate on that, let's not be ridiculous please) has to go somewhere, and packing my laptop, notebooks etc for a trip to the men's room isn't convenient.  Plus you risk losing the 'good' seat in the cafe.  So moderation is key, both to minimize the trips to loo and because when you're a caffeine minimalist like me, two cups of the coffeehouse special and I'm shaking like a junkie in rehab.  It makes it interesting trying to type, but hey, at least I'm being 'proper.'  The crazy part about these coffee houses is that they seat a small army of people, but only have about two electrical outlets.  The person who gets the single seater table along the far wall, well lit but out of direct sunlight, also gets the seat that controls access to electrical outlet.  This it the Seat of Power, both literally and figuratively.  I get to plug in my laptop, taking up one of the coveted spots and wait to see who will have the courage to ask if they can plug in as well.  It's amazing to me how some people will walk right up to me without saying a word, go under my table ("Um, hello?  Can I help you?") plug right in and go about their business.  Other people, will agonize over whether they should approach me or not, like I'm going to require them to kiss my ring and swear to repay this favor in the future ("Thank you, Godfather").  Of course, the truly savvy coffee house frequenter (typically the college students) will see that the second of my large, somewhat obligatory beverages has long since been consumed, my legs are crossed, my foot is tapping a -mile-a-minute and I'm eyeing the route to the men's room with the same longing that the teeny-boppers in the Young Adult section are eyeing the latest "Twilight" paraphernalia.  So it comes down to what deadline is more urgent: their term paper or my bladder.  Never knew there were such intense politics in the book store coffee house, did you?

So when all else fails, there's always the relative privacy of my car, which is effective and never dull.  On more than one occasion, whether its because I was en route to one of my client's locations, or because I've been travelling with my family but still had to work due to lack of vacation time, I've had to opt for the Driver Side Office.  If I have to do this, I usually try to find a mall or small shopping strip with one of the aforementioned book or donut stores.  The great thing about those places is the WiFi signal is usually strong enough that if you're lucky enough to get Rock Star parking, you can get a solid signal in the parking lot.  Then it's time to plug the smartphone into the dashboard lighter, synch up to the bluetooth speaker and dial in to the conference line.  Then, to keep the noise down, I cut the engine roll up the windows and set the car thermometer to Shake-n-Bake.  My car, when not carting me around, takes pride in its ability to bake a Thanksgiving turkey in about an hour.  So as I'm on my phone, typing away at my laptop which is doing nothing to add to the comfort of my own private sauna, I'm also sweating like Bill Clinton everytime Hillary asks "So, filled that new intern position yet?"  There are about 3 days a year, where cold outside temperature is perfectly balanced by the beating sun, and I can stay in there as long as necessary.  Any other time, the race is on to determine what runs out first: my laptop battery or my body's water supply.  As you can imagine, I've gotten some strange looks from passers-by and particularly security guards while sitting in parking lots, usually before the local stores open, seemingly talking to myself and sweating like a horse.  On occasion, it seems like I'm getting a bit TOO much attention from the local mall cop, or the police cruiser makes a second pass in 15 minutes and I decide it's time to leave before something happens.

Despite the somewhat unconventional locations, and the occasionally uncomfortable situations, my productivity while outside my normal office continues to be high.  Maybe it's the change of scenery, maybe it's the extra caffeine, who knows.  The nice part is, sooner or later, the laptop battery will expend it's last electron, the parking lot light will dim enough, or the trip will come to an end.  Regardless of the reason, it gives me a great reason to wrap up whatever I'm working on, head home and get bowled over by the kids with a cry of "DADDY!"  That walk-through-the-door greeting is one of the few things you don't get to experience everyday when working from home, so maybe it makes it just that much more special to me when it happens.