Alexander's

06:10 -- after a final look at my watch I decide it is time to call the limo driver -- who was supposed to pick me up.

Good morning Mr. Paulsen
Good morning
5:55 right?
Yes and I've been waiting for the last 15 minutes
Please let me check with the driver. I’ll call you back right away

6:20

Mr. Paulsen, I'm terribly sorry, but could you please take a normal taxi to the airport -- there was a slight problem

Sure my plane starts boarding at 6:40, but I guess if I beg the normal taxi driver to go faster it might still work.

6:25

Lucky me I get a taxi driver that was doing limo service for consultants before. Incidentally he became a normal taxi driver because limo service was too stressful for him.

I'm sorry to ask you, but could you please write the bill on your own? It's hard to drive through the city at break-neck-speeds and still fill out that form.

Sure whatever you say. Just get me to the airport fast and alive.

I hit the road running -- all the way to the security checkpoint.[^1]

I'm nervous, sweaty and the line at the security check is quite long.

Sir is this your bag?
Yes
Please step out of the line

Really? Today?

Turns out that my deodorant is not above the maximum size for liquids. Also my shoes are clean, so apparently I didn’t step in any bombs on my way to the airport.

Finally they let me go.

I grab my laptop bag, which of course is still open from the security check. About a hundred pages of documentation rain over the security counter.

Smile - just smile.

At the gate my coworkers greet me with smiles.

Now you have a new benchmark and can sleep at least 20 minutes longer.

[^1]: Now I know why some of my coworkers run every night after work.

Yesterday, after a hard and tiring day at work, I came home quite late. So when I held my hotel key against the pad the only thing I wanted was some food and my bed.

The pad lit up, a satisfying buzz filled the air and my door opened with a soft klicking sound. I dropped my bag right next to the one already lying on the floor, switched on the light and turned to the bathroom.

Already taken!

I don’t mind sleeping in a hotel, but I don’t like the thin walls. When I can hear the neighbors having sex it gives the whole flat a feeling of a cheap run down motel -- just like the ones you see in the American movies.

But then I turn back and notice there was a big hairy guy lying on my bed -- naked.

I’m not homophobe or anything, but I really don’t like sharing my bed -- especially not with someone or something that has more body hair than I do!

I stumbled back down and tell my colleagues that were still up -- working even later than I did.

Yes that happens. It is worse if you are the one sleeping and someone lies down in your bed. It can be a real trauma -- a shock for life.

I guess from now on I’ll have to bring some wedge to make sure I’m the only one sleeping in my room at night.

The flight is booked out. You will have to take a later one and then come to the company on your own.

Maybe not the best start of a new work week, but at least I get to sleep in a bit.

Vienna airport really is nice. Hardly any queues and a lot of bored security personnel. I only have carryon luggage and not a single metal part on my clothes, so there really should not be any holdups -- or so I thought.

Sir could you please step over here.
Why? The security thing didn’t even ring!
Please just step over here.

First I was groped by some ham fisted security guard. Then my shoes got an extra careful inspection.[^1] Finally the baggage checker greeted me with a smile.

Apparently my hand cream had a volume of 150ml -- when I bought it. Of course the fact that only about 30ml were left, was irrelevant. After all it's about as likely that I build a bomb from 30ml of hand cream as it is from 150ml. Also the disappointment that there was nothing in my shoes or my suite or my bag might have been too much for the bored security personnel.

Now I know why it’s called “business class”. Inside the plane I was surrounded by elderly gentlemen working on laptops. More room to work and fewer cute girls to chat with.

So I fished out some paper, opened my pen and immediately understood what’s so great about my ball pens -- the super smooth flow of the ink. I guess in the USA there would have to be a remark on the pen.[^2]

Please do not use in reduced pressure environment

When I finally arrived in Stuttgart I just wanted to clean up and wash my hands.

Is anyone surprised if I tell you that the toilets were broken?

I start to understand why people are not so happy to travel for work.

[^1]: too bad I washed my feet just an hour earlier [^2]: right after "Please don't stab your brother in the eye with this thing (even though he might deserve it)