If you work remotely, you’ll be familiar with the art of the Wi-Fi hunt. An important Zoom call taken on the road requires not only a speedy connection, but a quiet setting and a neutral backdrop.
Recently, while on a road trip from DC to New Orleans, a stop off in Birmingham, Alabama presented itself. Despite having a crucial 2 p.m. call about a future job opportunity scheduled, I couldn’t resist a working lunch at a traditional barbecue spot. But it soon became clear that the rowdy, joyous venue was not the kind of place where I could have that conversation. Stranded in a quiet part of town, pacing up and down the street, I realized my options were limited—until on the corner, appearing like a mirage, was a brewery.
Inside, the taproom was cavernous, occupied by a grand total of three people. Promising. I noticed, as I approached the bar, that the voices leaking from the speakers belonged to my fellow countrymen, The 1975. When I complimented the choice, the bartender gave me a calculating look that said: “Is this guy putting on a British accent to mess with me, or what?”
She told me that they played in Nashville last month, and I said the musical choice made me feel right at home. “Southern hospitality, it’s kind of our thing,” she replied. After she offered a few samples of their core beer range, I became acutely aware of the time. It was 1:55, and I needed to get settled, so I ordered one beer out of courtesy.
“Where is the quietest place to sit?” I asked, explaining the occasion, and that I needed the people on the other end of the Zoom call to think I was in a café rather than a brewery. She directed me to an empty corner section, and though the 1975 were still very much audible, it was the best I was going to do. I opened Zoom, my beer just out of shot. As the call began, the music got imperceptibly quieter, and the voice on screen clearer. I hailed my headphones. The call went well.
Later that evening, after more beers, more conversation, and an invitation to a trivia night, I recalled the events of the afternoon, and couldn’t help but ask the bartender something that had been playing on my mind ever since. “Is it just me, or did the music get quieter during my call?”
“Told you it was called Southern hospitality. Good luck with the job.”
Words + Photoby Joey Leskin