About two weeks ago, a co-worker rang my line saying she was going to transfer my boss' call over to me. While this is not a common occurrence, it's not entirely unheard of. My boss comes on the line and asks if I'd like to go to California for business. The visit will be brief, but because I've already missed the 14-day cutoff for cheaper airfare, I have the opportunity to fly out on the Saturday before to hold down costs.
I try not to blatantly celebrate about the office for the rest of the day, but it's difficult. I used to travel more in my previous job, so business travel felt less like a holiday and more like a chore. I commiserate with my co-worker who will joining me over his schedule, his choice of hotel, etc. He has already booked his flight using a personal credit card to rack up more free air miles , instead of the corporate credit card. I keep reminding myself that I need to follow suit, but I keep forgetting. We both agree that the Hotel Palomar on Fourth St. in San Francisco looks worth investigating. Just to be safe, I check out the rates for the W Hotel and the Westin off Union Square, but Hotel Palomar is still coming in cheaper, so I book online for the weekend.
I become thoroughly excited now, as Hotel Palomar is one of those swanky "boutique" hotels that have become so in vogue in the last decade. Complimentary Aveda bath products and Ghiradelli chocolates on the pillow for the turn-down service! Again, I must contain my excitement around the office, since this is intended to be a business trip. I zip off an email to my San Francisco friends, warning them of my arrival. My remaining girlfriends there rejoice, while my remaining guy friends make pledges of hanging out "as long as they're not getting any." Jeez. I can't believe that getting laid is a rarer occurrence than my visting San Francisco, but boys will be dumbasses.
I try not to blatantly celebrate about the office for the rest of the day, but it's difficult. I used to travel more in my previous job, so business travel felt less like a holiday and more like a chore. I commiserate with my co-worker who will joining me over his schedule, his choice of hotel, etc. He has already booked his flight using a personal credit card to rack up more free air miles , instead of the corporate credit card. I keep reminding myself that I need to follow suit, but I keep forgetting. We both agree that the Hotel Palomar on Fourth St. in San Francisco looks worth investigating. Just to be safe, I check out the rates for the W Hotel and the Westin off Union Square, but Hotel Palomar is still coming in cheaper, so I book online for the weekend.
I become thoroughly excited now, as Hotel Palomar is one of those swanky "boutique" hotels that have become so in vogue in the last decade. Complimentary Aveda bath products and Ghiradelli chocolates on the pillow for the turn-down service! Again, I must contain my excitement around the office, since this is intended to be a business trip. I zip off an email to my San Francisco friends, warning them of my arrival. My remaining girlfriends there rejoice, while my remaining guy friends make pledges of hanging out "as long as they're not getting any." Jeez. I can't believe that getting laid is a rarer occurrence than my visting San Francisco, but boys will be dumbasses.
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