Arizona is a state I wouldn’t have been to without my old job. We used to head to a conference center in Scottsdale every year for training. The place was gorgeous – Spanish mission style dripping with flowers, brightly tiled patios, thick wooden beams – but I was never there to enjoy myself. I did a pretty good job despite that.
One night I took a walk through the golf course with my office-crush to have him tell me that Arizona wouldn’t be so bad if there weren’t so many Mexicans residing there. I turned and walked back to the hotel. The sprinklers came on right at that moment and completely soaked him – proving that whoever scripts my life agreed with me and has a fantastic sense of humor.
Arizona is also where I got punched in a bar fight. I should share that story sometime. It will require pictures.
My old company no longer hosts training there. This has nothing to do with my bar injuries.