Flow State

I’ve spent the better part of thirty years providing services to people who, quite literally, would rather be anywhere else on the planet.

Think about that for a second.

For six years, I was a prosecutor. You know who goes to court? Victims. People who have had the worst day of their lives and are now forced to sit in a sterile room with bad lighting to relive it. They aren’t there for the “experience.” They’re there because a subpoena said so. They’re miserable, and honestly, they have every right to be.

Then I flipped the script and spent fourteen years as a defense attorney. Different side of the aisle, same vibe. My clients weren’t “customers” in the fun sense of the word. They were people staring down the barrel of a life-altering L. Nobody wakes up stoked to see their defense counsel. You’re a reminder of their mistakes or their misfortunes. You are the person they pay because they have to, not because they want to.

So, naturally, I thought teaching would be the pivot.

I’ve been at it for eight years now. And look, I like the job. But let’s be real: I’m currently staring at a room full of high school seniors who view a 50-minute law lecture like a prison sentence. To them, homework isn’t “learning”—it’s an obstacle between them and whatever they’re doing on their phones. I’m still the guy standing between them and where they actually want to be.

I’m tired of being the guy at the door everyone is trying to walk out of.

I want to work somewhere people are actually trying to get into.

I want to work at a ski resort. Why? Because nobody gets dragged to a ski resort by a process server. People save up their hard-earned money, pack the car, and brave the cold because they want to be on that mountain. They’re chasing a flow state. They’re happy. Even when they’re cold and tired, they chose the struggle.

I want to work at Wrigley Field during a Cubs game. I want to work in a National Park. I want to be the guy providing the service that people actually put on their calendar with a smiley face.

I know, I know. I’m being naive. I can already hear the comments. I’m sure there are entitled POS at Vail who complain that the snow is “too crunchy.” I’m sure there are drunks in the bleachers at Wrigley who make everyone’s life miserable. I’m sure there are tourists at Yellowstone who try to pet the bison. People are still people, and a certain percentage of them will always be a headache.

But at least they’re there by choice.

At least they want what I’m selling. There is a fundamental difference in the “aura” of a room when the people in it are there because they’re pursuing a “win” rather than trying to mitigate a “loss.”

After thirty years of managing human misery and teenage apathy, I think I’m ready to trade in the “Must-Do” for the “Want-To.” I want to provide a service for people who are actually glad to see me coming.

Is that too much to ask? Or am I just the old guy yelling at the sky again?

Either way, if you see me scanning lift tickets next winter, mind your business. I’ll be the one smiling.