We’re taking Chris’s parents this long weekend to Iowa and Nebraska. It’s always a bit comical taking two Aussies to states in the middle of the United States. When sharing happily with random strangers (since his dad is the chatty type), he’s always so excited to share that he’s going somewhere new. In regards to travel around the world, upgrades on flights and hotels, his dad is like a kid in a candy shop.

But of course, his joy and excitement is always met by blank stares, confusion, and “WTF” expressions. “Why are you going there?” he’s inevitably asked.

He always shares this with us, to which Chris always responds, “So what? I don’t care what other people think. We’re going!”

I oftentimes think that the same people who ask questions like this are the same people who are still confused by the results of the 2016 presidential election. And that is very, very dangerous. If we cannot understand the issues and mistakes of the past, then how will we ever learn and progress forward as individuals or as a nation? That is why history is so important… yet somehow, this still doesn’t click with so many.

On Sunday afternoon, two colleagues, their partners, and I left the resort and drove to a spot 15 minutes away for a horseback riding activity up a mountain. While waiting for everyone to sign their waiver forms and for our guide to organize the horses and get us together, the man in charge of the waiver forms started looking at each of us up and down, conspicuously scrutinizing us and wondering where we were from and why we were here. After asking us what our relation was to each other, if we were friends, colleagues, where we we from, we told him that we all work at a San Francisco-based technology company and were here for a work event to celebrate high-performing employees.

“So you work in technology, huh?” the guy snorted, clearly annoyed by our response. “Well, I have a question for you!”

We all exchanged quick looks. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Why is it that these big technology companies with all this money choose to open in big cities with high rent and high costs of living and just ignore all these other cities in the middle of the country and in areas that aren’t as expensive?” he said, visibly annoyed. “You have all this money and you could be opening in places that have more space, have better quality of life, and could most importantly be offering jobs to people who really need them! And you’d also be paying less rent and smaller salaries! Isn’t that a win-win?”

A colleague of mine slowly starts to explain that one reason for this is that VCs who invest in companies may want the companies close by to them. Our VCs are all in Silicon Valley, so they’d want our company to be in San Francisco.

The skeptical horseback rider waiver forms guy was still skeptical. “But you’ve got other offices that aren’t the headquarters that are in New York and Amsterdam! How do you explain that? Is it just that you don’t want to help cities in Nebraska or Iowa?”

I finally chimed in and said that the talent pool just wasn’t quite the same in Nebraska and Iowa, and it would cost a lot of money to relocate talent from major cities like New York to Omaha. It even takes money to relocate people from San Francisco to Chicago, where the tech scene is lesser developed,, yet we all consider Chicago a major urban metropolitan area. He raised his eyebrows at me when I said this, and my colleagues looked at me like I was crazy.

“You’re saying that the talent pool isn’t in Nebraska or Texas? You think their people just aren’t as talented?” he pressed me.

“Yes, I am saying that based on our recruiting efforts and what other companies have found,” I insisted to him, completely undaunted. “Even big relocation packages aren’t enough to get these people to uproot their lives and move to these random places.”

It was as though I’d ruffled his feathers. His face was turning red. “But don’t you people eventually want to settle down, move to the suburbs or rural areas to have a better quality of life and raise kids, have a family, have space?” he insisted back to me with his own inner argument coming out with fangs. As each word came out, his volume was rising and his irritation was being unleashed.

“Honestly?” I said back, totally unfazed. “Not really. Most young people these day don’t want that kind of life. More and more people are staying in the city. And well, not everyone wants kids.” That last bit could have sent him into attack mode.

But to my rescue, our driver had walked over, mid-conversation, and realized what was going on. She asked to speak with him in private, during which I could hear her scolding him to stop judging their guests and that we were actually giving them business that he should be grateful for.

“But I’m not judging them!” he yelped back. “I’m just asking questions!”

Well, he actually was judging us. And he was also asking questions. He doesn’t really get what we do, but he thinks he does. And he thinks he gets the bigger picture. But he doesn’t. And I’m happy to call him out on it and tell him the truth regardless of whether he wants to hear it or accept it. People who are out of touch with reality are just the bane of my existence. He thinks we’re discriminating against cities in the middle of the country? Most of those people just lack the skill sets we need. And the others think they’re too good for the jobs that “illegal” immigrants perform, everything from farming and harvesting to back of house work in restaurants across this country. But I’m sure he doesn’t even know that, and if he did, he’d refuse to accept it.

Today is the second and really, last full day of this trip. I spent time time in the spa, ate a quick lunch, went out to the mountains with four others for horseback riding, and came back to lounge by the pool before our Cinco de Mayo themed group dinner. I had this great plan of reading for about an hour and a half at the pool before getting ready for dinner, but colleagues kept running into me at the pool and stopping me to chat. That sounds really anti-social of me, but I was really hoping to get this reading done.

“You know you’re here for President’s Club to socialize with everyone here, right?” my close colleague said.

Yeah, sort of. But if I brought Chris as a plus-one, I’d probably be doing less of the type of socializing I’ve been doing.

We had our dinner altogether as a group, and while it was delicious, as it started coming to a close, the amount of white male testosterone that filled the air made be a bit nauseated. I get along well with all the CSMs and sales engineers, even the sales guys from Europe, and certain spouses/plus-ones who came. But I’ve always been turned off by the white bro culture that comes out when the sales guys are all around each other. There’s just something about the way they act with each other that just reminds me of frats, and it really disgusts me. As soon as all the banter began after the multiple margaritas, I knew I had to bolt.

I’m grateful for my time here at this beautiful resort, my spa treatments and spa time, and the time to chat with my favorite SF colleagues and EMEA counterparts. But I really do not want to increase my time socializing with entitled white male sales bros. This culture needs to change, but it won’t anytime soon sadly.

After two connecting flights and a short Uber ride, I arrived at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara in Santa Barbara this late afternoon. It felt oddly familiar given that Chris and I had visited this property just four years ago as a potential wedding venue. It certainly is a luxurious resort with beautifully manicured lawns, roses, and bougainvillea, multiple pools, an extremely extensive spa and fitness club, and the beautiful Spanish tiling and architecture. I walked around the different areas where Chris and I checked out that had ocean and pool views and admired the coastal walk trail along the beach. This is definitely a nice getaway place.

While most people went out to downtown Santa Barbara to drink and party, I ended up going back to my room to read, do my video editing course, and sleep early to get ready for a day tomorrow of fitness classes, spa treatments, and relaxing. I felt my inner introvert come out when I declined going out with the crowd. My desire to socialize with a bunch of sales people is definitely not high. In general, I’ve never really gotten along well with sales because for the most part, to do well in sales, you have to be selfish with a high sense of self-orientation, and those personality types never do well with me. So this President’s Club weekend, while mostly a treat, is also a bit of a downer for me because it means I have to spend time with these people. And unsurprisingly, I spent most of the welcome reception socializing with other customer success managers and sales engineers.

I’m getting ready for my President’s Club trip starting tomorrow, and it seems odd to say this, but I’m not sure what to think of it. When Chris and I travel, we never do resort vacations where we lounge by a pool or on a beach; we’re constantly out and about, trying new restaurants, seeing different sights, going down random alleyways and finding interesting bars, nooks and crannies. With this trip, I’ll mostly be on the resort property, and so it’s a strange departure from my version of “normal” travel.

In preparation, since I’m not sure how much downtime I will have given I’ll be around colleagues on and off, I downloaded two books, have a third book on a Kindle, and have a video editing course to do online. I know I’m supposed to be at President’s Club to socialize with my colleagues, but outside of maybe three or four of them, I want to minimize my time with colleagues outside of the group welcome reception, dinner, and shared activities. If this feels too much like work, it won’t be a real vacation.