That Consulting High...

I know why people like consulting - it’s like a high of another level.

Which honestly thinking about it now it makes sense why it’s filled with a bunch of bros and over-opinionated people and loud people with no filters and oversharers and perfectionists and Type As but in a somehow cooler way…

But seriously though, let’s talk about this high for a second…

You’re in the middle of a deck readout for your client and literally all you can do is hold your breath for barely a millionth of a second because you’re too buys trying to read for a reaction to see if you need to make a quick 180 pivot because the client hates everything you’re saying and you don’t have time to give a shit at the moment.

It’s a wild experience.

One minute you’re on cloud nine and the next second you get an email that blows up the rest of your night, and the next day, and the next week, and the next five weeks…

I literally never know what my next week will be like.

Will I have (dare I say) a whole hour plus to workout in the middle of a work day? Will I be awake albeit bleary eyed for a 6am call with Europe and on back-to-back meetings for the rest of the day until 7:30 at night? Will I spend so many freaking hours staring at the computer screen that my eyes are about ready to fall out? Nobody knows. 

This is everything I liked about being a sales rep. Well, a part of it at least.

Everyday it left me in awe at the cool things I saw or the strange conversations I had along the course of my six-plus-store-stop-a-day routine.  I literally could not tell you from one day to the next what to anticipate, or who to be prepared for because you were about to get into a screaming match with a slimy-as-shit store owner, or that the cashier who was always a complete pain in the ass to deal with was suddenly super chill and friendly and would even offer you a homemade cookie, or that you would end up sitting at that bar just chatting to the beverage director for hours on end because you were waiting for the traffic to die down but secretly really liking that you got to hang out there in that dark basement with the live music and the great company.

Honestly, what a sketch industry. 

I love it, and I always will, but let’s just all be honest here… the number of creeps in the wine industry is absolutely astronomical. The number of store owners who routinely undressed me in their minds every time I arrived, the numbers of owners who literally propositioned me as a lure to sell more wine (only one, but still… think that’s enough, don’t you?), the number of awkward hugs I’ve dodged from overly close talking semi-drunk bar directors or hot (whoops, does this detract from this sentence?) bartenders?

But damn, is it fun as fuck. 

Seriously, picture this - a bunch of down-to-earth people or ultra snobby people and loud gregarious people and geeky people and idgaf I’m so rich people - all united by their love for one thing - and it just so happens that this ‘one thing’ can get you drunk as fuck and have you reciting poetry (aka song lyrics but in a Shakespearean-esque style presentation) by the end of the night in a crowded bar full of people or lurking semi-alone in a slightly dingy but dope basement bar with too-delicious-they’re-dangerous margaritas after having a full Champagne “tasting” with dinner.

Think of the fun you could have in that environment. 

Like real, honest to goodness, great times with great people that you happened to come across through in the course of that job because the wine industry is so itsy bitsy teeny weenie that you can’t walk five feet without running into someone that knows someone or someone you worked with once upon a time as harvest interns or fellow sales reps.

In theory consulting could be like this when travel resumes. See the same four guys at the same four airports because everyone needs to visit their client on a Monday so they can hopefully be home before (optimally) Friday so everyone’s always tired and slightly jet lagged and with nowhere to go besides the Terminal Whatever bar where they give you free liquor and hummus and sometimes too-tasty croissants. Maybe not when you’re going to bumblefuck Alabama, on off hours because that’s what the client demands… but still, a girl can dream.