Taking Care of Business

Sorry for the long absence of roller derby related news.  Here's the recap:  I skated 14 hours last week.  It was a lot.  I was tired.  Moving on...
This week I was forced to take a short hiatus from 8 wheels and fly to Houston for my debut business trip.  When people ask what I do I usually just say that I work in finance and allow the conversation to follow its natural course away from the subject.  Sometimes, however, that person nods sagely and says something along the lines of, "Oh yeah, I have a cousin who does accounting."
<sigh>  I'm then obligated to elaborate by saying, "no, I work for a broker dealer," a statement that usually elicits a blank stare.
"You know, stocks, bonds, mutual funds."  Anyone under 40 who hasn't caught my drift by now is still lost so then I have to use the phrase of last resort:
"Wall Street"
I shouldn't rag on people for not knowing.  I honestly used to believe that the Wall Street Journal came out of Wall, South Dakota and I was always impressed that such a large and apparently well respected newspaper came out of rural America.  In my mind it was a testament to small town ingenuity.  I believed this until college, at which time I actually began to read the Wall Street Journal and learned otherwise.  When I first started in finance I applied at Merrill Lynch only because it was a company I had heard of before and while I didn't really know what finance was and I wasn't looking for a job in that industry specifically, I was good at math and I thought that would help (it doesn't, at least not in any way that's material).
This Tuesday I found myself on a plane to Houston.  My company, and Seattle in general, is fairly relaxed in terms of things like dress code and bucks other business stereotypes whenever possible.  However, going out of town and working with perfect strangers who have somewhat different expectations of business demeanor caused me to look down at my fingernails and make a last ditch attempt to pick out the stubborn bits of neon green polish leftover on my cuticles from my 'boutfit' over the weekend.  I considered that a manicure might have been a good idea.  I then rejected that consideration based on the fact that I never want perfect strangers dicking around with my nails and I hate paying for anything I can do for myself (even when I choose not to).
My arrival in Houston was met with a Lincoln town car (right this way, Ms. Slater) a five star hotel (we'll bring your luggage to your room when its ready Ms. Slater) meetings all day followed by dinner in what must have been an ungodly expensive steakhouse accompanied by ungodly expensive wine.  As I looked around the conference I saw a sea of faces that were older, better groomed and wealthier than my own.  Going to business things outside my company always makes me feel uncouth and unimportant - like a kid from Montana.
It was a long day in what basically equated to a foreign land.  At the end of it I found myself standing in the middle of a hotel room that for some reason provided me with two beds, 800 thread count sheets, complimentary fine chocolates and a large screen TV.  The room was bigger than my first apartment after college.  I've never owned or wanted to own a television.  After a day of freebies I found I didn't have it in me to eat the chocolates and I unwrapped a toothbrush before realizing it would cost me $5 and I could just as well have used my finger. 
Don't get me wrong, I like nice things - but I like cheap things too and cheap things are... well, cheaper.  One of my favorite hotel stays was in Bowling Green, Ohio for $30 a night.  The place was careworn and threadbare but meticulously clean and inviting.  I challenge you to find a more delicious meal than $5 worth of Halel food off the streets of New York City.  It's even big enough to share.  I sometimes wonder if we don't assign too much value according to price. 
It would seem, then, that I work in the wrong field.  After all, many people will tell you that finance is about money, lots of money.  I respectfully disagree.  In my experience, finance is about people, trust and relationships.  For the most part, money matters very little to me so long as I can continue to fund my expensive roller derby habit.  On the other hand, I care about people a lot.  I'm great at managing relationships and I'm smart enough to figure out the nuts and bolts of the industry.  Plus, if you don't care about the trappings of the job, no one can buy you out. 
So I sat in my hotel room and threw my stuff all over the place to see if messiness would make it homier.  I had brought my borrowed inline speed skates from Seattle and worked on balance and walking crossovers while watching Family Guy in Spanish.  After the conference I made it in pantyhose all the way to the airport before changing into pajama pants covered in red and green mittens that spelled out "Love," "Noel," & "Peace," with heels because I forgot other shoes.  Partial discomfort is better than total discomfort and I have no problem with a little eccentricity.
Take that, finance.
<originally posted on 2.8.12>