Guide to Business Travel
The life of a road warrior is a lonely one. All over this great country of ours, sales people criss-cross the landscape daily, desperately scouring the market for receptive customers. In these trying economic times, journeys such as these are often fruitless, providing more pie in the face than change in the pocket for intrepid peddlers like me. Regardless of the futility that awaits, the optimist who resides deep within me (several floors below the pessimist who owns the building), sees these excursions as an opportunity to hone my skills as a seasoned traveler.

My office is a red Dodge Stratus with collision impressions on both sides of my rear fender. The driver side blemish is a souvenir from Salem, where a small yellow pole impeded my backwards progress while fiercely protecting a vulnerable fire hydrant, leaving me dry but dented. The second imprint came courtesy of my son Will who backed into a building when leaving a local restaurant. For the record, many people have bumped into the building in question as witnessed by the numerous scars on its outer façade. Will, however, was probably the first sober person to run afoul of this inviting obstacle in recent memory.

Rarely, clean outside or in, my insightful sister Eve once compared my vehicle to the inside of a women's pocketbook. The interior is generally packed with a hodge-podge of debris which my family and passengers wade through upon entering. It is in this rolling pile of refuse where sales are normally born and often go to die.

After twenty-some years of traversing the Mid-Atlantic countryside, one tends to develop a few helpful procedures to ease the discomfort of the daily sojourn, devising ways of feeling at home regardless of one's location. Allow me to pull back the curtain and provide a glimpse into what I like to call "Jon's Guide to Creative Business Travel."

For any traveler, the subject of clean and accessible rest rooms is a universal theme. To me, filing station facilities often resemble the set from the original "Saw" movie. To spot a dismembered corpse in one of the stalls would almost be anti-climatic in such places. This is why I recommend hotel lobby restrooms as a highway accessible alternative. The benefits to such rest stops are obvious. Lobby restrooms are; rarely used, always clean and, if you are feeling particularly daring, you can even grab a complimentary copy of USA Today on your way to "powdering your nose." The trick to this gambit is to breeze past the front desk with a purposeful look on your face, and then exit the premises through a side door once your mission is complete. It works every time, just act like you belong. Caution: Stopping to sample the continental breakfast is pushing the limits and is considered bad form.

During my travels I prefer to frequent less familiar eateries, shunning fast food whenever possible. Discovering a concealed jewel on the road seems to elevate my spirits when sales are scarce. One of my favorite haunts is Poogie's, an all you can eat country buffet in Danville. From the road Poogie's looks like a greasy spoon that might seat a half a dozen thin truckers at a time. Indoors is a pin-neat dining room and sumptuous food. Their southern fried chicken would force the Colonel into a hasty and unconditional surrender. Locating such restaurants adds interest to the outing and allows me the feel of a culinary Vasco De Gama, searching the wild for nourishment and adventure.

A delightful meal on the road can, however, create other issues for the traveling sales person. Following a loving jaunt, or two, or three, through Poogie's buffet line, the blood in my brain embarks on a trip of its own, hoping to get a whiff of that sweet potato soufflé as it settles like the Edmund Fitzgerald at the bottom of my belly. Nearly unconscious and unable to operate heavy machinery, I gently steer my vehicle to that shady spot I had came across during my pre-meal reconnaissance. Please remember that it is critical to case the surrounding area for a resting place before you chow down, you don't want to end up in a ditch with barbeque sauce on your chin.

Twenty minutes into my peaceful slumber I am stirred by the chiming of my trusty BlackBerry. I awaken feeling fat, refreshed and ready to take on another afternoon of sales indifference.

Although you probably don't notice us, there are a lot of sales people out there, knocking on doors and cold calling businesses. Often our sales targets are surprised, yet rarely delighted to see us. Be kind, we mean no harm, and if you should spy a lone sedan parked beneath a spreading oak in the middle of the afternoon, tread lightly, reclining inside might be a person like me, sleeping off lunch and dreaming of sales success and clean bathrooms.