the soapbox

As someone who enjoys flights for the same reason she likes Mexican vacations – no cell phone service and no internet – I generally don’t like chatting on planes.  I prefer to pop in my headphones and catch up on work or read a good book.  Yesterday, I was on a plane bound ultimately for Zurich, but I was getting off in DC to catch a connection to Albany.  It was a massive plane with a very eclectic/European passenger scene.  The first guy to sit down next to me smelled like an ashtray and promptly informed me that I was in his seat.  Confident I had correctly located 38K (yes, THAT big of a plane), I told him I was pretty sure this was the window seat the gate agent had promised me.  He proceeded to argue with me about how my seat was his because he was also certain he was given a window seat.  Turns out there are two window seats on airplanes, and his was located on the other side of the plane (me: 1, stinky European: 0).  He huffed off like it was my fault.  Not the best start to my trip and just further confirmation of my headphones/reading material M.O. 

Not long after, a very nice man sat down in the aisle seat and began to chat.  I dutifully lowered my book, cautious to begin a discussion before the plane had even left the ground.  Almost immediately, however, I found myself pleasantly surprised by the pleasant conversation with my flight neighbor.  We easily conversed about our travels (ie. whether either of us was actually bound for Zurich and how badly it must suck for the people in the middle seats to have to fly like that all the way to Zurich).  As it always does, it quickly came out that I’m a former lawyer and the practice of law “wasn’t really for me.”  I never considered myself a loud talker (I know many of my readers would maybe disagree with that statement), but sure enough, a woman across the aisle heard my rant and chimed in with her friends’ similar experiences in law (and debt) and their similar subsequent renunciation of lawyerdom.  She assured me I was “not alone,” (which I didn’t think I was), and we had a very nice discussion, reaffirming that it wasn't me... it was the law.

My aisle companion, who was a hospital administrator and very curious about my current job (and passion) CaféWell, proceeded to pick my brain over the course of the flight.  He almost refused to let me ask him anything about his story, always incredulously turning the conversation back to me.  You mean to tell me… with THAT much debt… you just up and quit law?  How do you sleep at night?? (I’m taking a little poetic license there, but that was the gist).  I told him I sleep a heck of a lot better than I slept when I was a lawyer and told him about the Income Based Repayment program and the freedom it offers… the freedom to actually live you life and not be a slave to the debt.

Just as the pilot informed us that we were beginning our initial descent into Washing Dulles airport did I realize that I had spent the better part of three hours pontificating.  I apologized for being on my soapbox, to which he responded No, I’m fascinated.  And besides, we’re on a plane.  Not like there’s anything else to do.  So if you had it all to do over again… how would you do it?  I quickly realized in that moment that this was the first time I had outright preached about the ridiculousness of the legal profession since my career change (and for those of you who were at the Steamboat wedding and beg to differ with me on this, you have absolutely no idea what you were missing). 

So thank you, Mr. 38J, for allowing me to take the microphone and remind myself that I made a fantastic life choice.  Little did I know how much I would need that reminder, as I sat stranded at Dulles airport for 8 hours with a migraine.