My wife Cindy is a horrible networker.
Now, anyone who knows Cindy, or who has even just met her once, will be surprised by that statement. She’s outgoing, funny, a great conversationalist, not shy at all, and a terrific listener.
But she sucks at what she calls “forced networking.” This is when you are at a professional event, and there are clusters of people standing around networking and talking, and you don’t know anyone.
You have to sort of butt your way into one of the groups, introduce yourself, try to catch up on the conversation, and start contributing.
It’s hell . . . and I can’t think of anyone who likes doing it except Mark Ragan. He's weird like that. I think it's the reporter in him.
And yet it must be done. Especially when you spend half your life at those types of events, it seems. It's either butt in, or stand in a corner by yourself.
Well, late last year, Cindy and I were at a function where I was the speaker, and there was a reception before the event. Cindy got there before me for some reason, and when I walked in the room, it was the usual set up:
Little clusters of three and four people who didn’t know each other standing around desperately trying to make conversation.
Except for Cindy. I found her in the corner, where she was diddling her Dingleberry.
I pounced. “What are you doing?” I said to her.
“I needed to e-mail Greg,” she said. Greg is our accountant, and to my knowledge, Cindy has never sent an e-mail to Greg from her Dingleberry. Never.
“Why, is something important up?” I asked her. “Tell me all about it!”
She knew she was busted. She wasn't e-mailing Greg. She was just pretending to do something so she wouldn't have to network. “I hate this,” she whispered. “I suck at it. I hate butting into other peoples’ conversations.”
So of course I teased her and called her a bedwetter and told her that maybe she should consider moving out of communications and into the accounting profession, or maybe the IT profession, where nobody talks to anybody at the industry conferences.
But then she busted me.
“You know, it’s real easy for you to do this,” she said. “You’re recognizable. You’re usually the speaker, or people know you from your blog, or they’ve seen your fat head on one of the eight thousand promotions Ragan sends out with your picture on it. You don’t have to butt in at these things. People come up to you.”
Sure enough, as she was talking, two women from a government agency who had been in one of my seminars earlier in the year came up, and within seconds we were chatting and laughing and drinking and . . . dare I say it, networking.
But, I told Cindy afterwards . . . even if people didn’t recognize me, I would still be good at networking. I would easily and seamlessly integrate myself into first one group, then another, until I found the one with the best conversations. Because, I told her, I am a communicator. It's what I do!
“Bullshit,” she said. “If nobody recognized you, you’d go get a drink at the bar and take it back to your room.”
Well . . . we agreed to disagree. And then a month later, I was put to the test.
I was invited to Asheville, N.C. (a beautiful part of the country) to speak at Duke Energy’s annual communication meeting.
I was speaking on Friday morning, and there was a reception Thursday night. The event was being held at this historical landmark of a hotel in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, my room had a gorgeous view, the clients had so far been more than friendly . . . it was a dream job.
So I got to my room after the flight, showered, then headed down to the networking reception. I walked in . . . and waited. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But I was . . . I was doing exactly what Cindy said I did. I was waiting for someone to come up to me!
I mean, surely the folks who hired me would come up and introduce themselves, right? One of them had seen me speak before, and I have the kind of head one doesn't easily forget.
I waited some more. Nothing. I was standing by myself. I started eyeing some of the clusters of people. I got a drink. I waited some more. By myself. There might not be a worse feeling in the world than standing in a roomful of people by yourself.
What I didn’t know was that the woman who knew me best wasn’t there . . . and neither were any of the other communicators whom I’d had conversations with.
So . . . nobody knew who the hell I was. I was on my own. I needed to network the hard way . . . and I completely choked.
First, I walked slowly through the entire room, desperately trying to make eye contact with someone. Nope. Then I made another circuit. Slowly. Still nothing. Now, ten minutes have gone by, and I haven’t talked to a soul.
I tried standing by the bar . . . but the bartender was too busy to talk. Then I realized something: these folks all knew each other!
They were all engrossed in their own conversations . . . they weren’t going to come up to me, and I wasn’t going to be able to find any lone stragglers who also didn’t have anyone to talk to, that I could leech on to.
I was going to have to butt into a cluster of people. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cluster-butt.
I mean, I tried, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. I made another long circuit through the room. I was about to butt into one friendly-looking group, when one of the woman let out a loud shriek of laughter. I couldn’t cluster-butt in on that!
I started circling a group of guys, hovering nearby, thinking maybe I could get in there. But they weren’t saying much. As the new person, I’d be the main attraction, like raw meat tossed into a tiger’s cage. I wasn’t up for that . . . so I moved on.
And so it went . . . for 20 agonizing minutes. I was sure that everyone in the room was secretly watching me, whispering things like:
"Hey, who's the Uncle Fester lookalike?"
"Check out the pervert in the corner . . . he keeps staring at everyone."
"Hey, why don't you go talk to Curly?"
"Hell no, you go talk to him!"
"Hell no!"
Finally, I remembered Cindy’s trick: the Dingleberry! At least I would appear to be doing something and not just standing there by myself! I could send Cindy an e-mail!
I reached for it . . . and realized that I had I left the damn thing in my hotel room.
So then I did something I never thought I would do. It was a complete and total choke job. I knew that people had noticed me standing by myself for 20 minutes, so I felt that just walking out of the room would be a humiliating retreat.
So instead, as I was standing there by myself, sweating, with nobody to talk to, feeling like I was on an island and under a microscope . . . I answered my wallet.
Yes, that’s right. I answered my wallet. I’m not proud of it, but I took my wallet out of my suit coat pocket, held it up to my ear like it was a phone, mouthed a couple of words, put a concerned look on my face, and stormed through the party talking to my wallet.
I went back to my room, finished my drink . . . and decided I would have to face my fears. I went back . . . but this time, I told myself, I was going to cluster-butt my way into the first group I saw.
But I didn’t have to. This time, someone did recognize me as soon as I walked in, and welcomed me warmly into his group. I met the husband of the vice president who had brought me in, and he was a great storyteller, and we had some drinks together, and I met more people, and they were all wonderful, hospitable southerners.
They were great people, the speech was a hit, and it was a wonderful memory all the way around.
Except for the fact that I had a two-minute conversation with my wallet.
Now, I’d like to think that the second time I went down to the party, I would have cluster-butted . . . but I’ll never know for sure. And that’s depressing.
And I’m curious: Has anyone else ever talked to their wallet to get out of a room? Have you cut yourself with the bartender’s lime-slicing knife to get out, which is something else I considered?
Or is just me?
Comments (42)
This is where being the communicator can help. I carry my camera so that instead of standing there picking my nose, I can look like I'm lining up shots, gauging the light, etc. Sometime I take a picture and someone makes a comment like "I hope you got my good side" and then I can cluster-butt.
Doesn't work quite as when now that I'm no longer the entry-level goober writing for the newsletter.
(I totally froze at the Ragan Recognition Awards reception in 2006. I should have come over to talk to you, Steve.)
Posted by Susan Clarke | February 13, 2008 12:47 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 12:47
Susan . . . . ah, the props! I remember them well. When I was just starting out in this field, I'd have to go cover the IABC International Conference.
I knew nobody, and nobody knew me, and I was just a scared little kid. But I had my reporter's notebook and my tape recorder!! So when I butted in, I wasn't trying to network . . .I was just interviewing people! That somehow made it better.
You SHOULD have come up to me. Let's have a pact that if one of us sees the other talking to a wallet, or a purse, or a even a dingleberry, we'll save each other.
That should go for anyone who reads this blog.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 13, 2008 1:31 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 13:31
You know when you're walking alone down a sidewalk, hallway, etc. that is long enough to see someone approaching from far away? And you see someone that you know but don't want to talk to? And you have to walk what seems like miles with that person in your direct vision?
I've done similar things in situations like that. Not even actually calling someone on my phone but taking my phone out as if it rang and pretending to talk to someone. I don't think I'd be able to pull off the wallet trick though...my "George Costanza" wallet would look like a cell phone circa 1992.
Posted by Kevin | February 13, 2008 1:54 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 13:54
I've been in that situation before, but I think I'm one of those weird types like Mark Ragan who LIKES that stuff and thrives off talking to people I don't know.
My husband (the complete opposite of me, an IT guy who would be fine if he never talked to anyone again ever) is always amazed by my ability to make friends and talk to ANYONE around me. I've chatted people up while waiting in line for the ladies room, during an exercise class, standing on the subway platform, and yes, even at receptions where you don't know anyone.
In fact, at one of your seminars a couple years ago, I made "friends" with three or four people I met during a cocktail hour and have stayed in touch with them ever since, both personally and professionally.
I do recognize that I'm not normal in this regard and most people would rather not throw their cohones out there and just start talking to someone. I figure the worst thing that can happen is they don't want to talk to me. In which case I'll just try someone else.
Posted by Lauren | February 13, 2008 1:54 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 13:54
Kevin:
The only reason I could pull the wallet trick off is because I lose my wallet, on average about once a month. So it never gets jammed with receipts and such. It looks like a sleek, leather, little Motorola Q phone.
Lauren . . . I'm that way too! And so is Cindy. We talk to everybody. There are about 20 restaurants in town where we've gotten to know the wait staff and bartenders so well that they sit down with us and drink with us. I talk to bus drivers and cabbies and bookstore clerks.
The only time I guess I don't talk is when I'm forced to: either in one of those networking things, or by some clown in the airport who is cutting into my reading/iPod time.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 13, 2008 2:16 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 14:16
Oh-my-god!! I am SOOO happy to know that a) I'm not the only one who has this weird-bizarre-counter-inititive-to-my-job condition, and b)Cindy and I have something in common - Cool!
I'm even more of a chicken than you or Cindy, because when I go to an IABC seminar or something (and I only go to the ones that have a speaker or a learning topic, NEVER the ones that are just for networking, Ugh!) I intentionally show up about 5 minutes before the speaker is scheduled to start so I am "too late, darn!" for the networking portion.
The first time I met you in person was at the Advanced Writing & Editing course you, Mark & Jim did here in Toronto, and I was totally stressing as I got off the elevator. Thank God, you recognized my name from the Lee-press-on-nametag, and gave me a big hug. After that I was cool, because I got to walk in already knowing one of the presenters, [insert huge sigh of relief here] and didn't have to cluster-butt.
The really odd thing about this, is that I am perfectly fine about introducing myself to people or starting conversations with people I don't know if it's a business situation, not even a drop of flop sweat then.
It's only in these horrid "pseudo-social" industry things that I would rather poke out my eyes with sharp sticks than "cluster-butt" I feel soooo much better knowing I'm not alone!
Posted by Kristen | February 13, 2008 2:57 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 14:57
Of all the articles and blog posts you've written, this one hit home the most. I just hate taking that kind of painfully awkward conversational plunge. I also hate its sister feeling of finally taking the plunge, only to realize I have zero in common with the group I've decided to join.
I'm always surprised that it is assumed communicators are supposed to excel at both written and verbal communication. They seem like two completely different animals to me, requiring very different skills. (Anyone who's been to journalism school and seen the print students and the broadcast students will know exactly what I'm talking about.) Yet in reading the blogs and posts of fellow communicators at myragan.com, it seems that many communicators feel just as at home writing an article as they do speaking to large groups. Does anyone else out there feel the tension of having to be both of these people - one solitary, one social - at once?
Posted by Valarie | February 13, 2008 3:44 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 15:44
Steve,
What you described is so where I was at the Ragan Web Content Management Conference cocktail party. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
I did come to the conference alone. I didn’t have trouble at random tables just talking about my job and networking at the conference during the day, but the cocktail party was murder.
I didn’t recognize anybody from any part of the seminar, except you. And I was afraid to join your conversation, because I thought you might think I was a crazed fan or something. I had complimented you earlier while you were preparing for the lunch seminar on the Good the Bad and the Electronically Ugly, telling you how you set the bar high for communicators at the conference. Your pre-seminar was the first contact I had with Ragan, and the other speakers paled in comparison. He’s going to call Cindy and tell her that some weird red-head thinks he’s some kind of high-bar setter and is stalking him, I thought. I’m neurotic on top of being a bad networker.
Instead, I just sat there holding a drink, eyes glazed, smiling and nodding in the general direction of far off conversations like I was on Thorzine or something.
Eventually, I was afraid that I looked like I wanted to be picked up, standing there alone smiling and drinking for so long. So I ended up doing what Cindy said you’d do. I went to the bar, bought two drinks (feigning the presence of a wallflower roommate who also wanted one), and headed back to enjoy the solitude.
You faked a wallet call. I faked a shy roommate.
Funny, isn’t it? Everybody thinks that everyone else is looking at or thinking about them, but everyone is really only thinking of themselves. And we are all thinking the same thing.
Now I know better. I’m going to make an effort to be a butter-inner.
Thanks,
Lynetta
Posted by Lynetta | February 13, 2008 3:47 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 15:47
I hate, hate, hate walking into a room where I know no one - or gazing madly about trying to find a familiar face. I'd rather stay in my hotel room and order room service than go through that.
The first night before a conference or training session is usually the worst because no one has met yet. The second night - different story, you're bound to have met someone who'd enjoy chatting with during the cocktail hour or sit with for dinner. But I think it's cruel and unusual punishment to schedule a meet and greet the night before an event.
The exception for me will be Ragan's Corp Comm Conf. in May. Thanks to all the virtual networking I've been doing on MyRagan - I have lots of friends - you included, of course, Steve - that I'm eager to connect with when I hit town.
Posted by Colleen (the soaring one) | February 13, 2008 4:08 PM
Posted on February 13, 2008 16:08
Steve has it all wrong about me. Typical.
I feel just as awkward as anyone else about butting into conversations or approaching someone I don't know.
Funny, I was just talking about this with Yolanda Maggi at our Speechwriters Conference last night.
I do it because it's my job, not because it's easy. Our conferences afford me the only opportunity I have to meet dozens of Ragan customers. So I line up at the start line (around 8 a.m. at a typical conference) and work the room as hard as I can.
Here's what I have found: That once you wade into the crowd and leave your jitters behind, you learn so much about your market, your customers and your company.
The difficult part is BEGINNING. Once you start, it's easy.
Posted by mark ragan | February 14, 2008 7:21 AM
Posted on February 14, 2008 07:21
Valarie wrote: "I'm always surprised that it is assumed communicators are supposed to excel at both written and verbal communication. They seem like two completely different animals to me, requiring very different skills."
I totally agree Valarie. Writing is 80% of my job, and I'm MUCh more comfortable writing a column, or a blog entry, or a comment than I am talking in person. And the phone? Hate it. I like the comfort of being able to edit myself, re-word things, etc. And you're right, many writers are introverted, yet they are "communicators" so everyone assumes they want to chat the night away with strangers.
Posted by Eileen Burmeister | February 14, 2008 9:35 AM
Posted on February 14, 2008 09:35
Lynetta:
You should have come up again!!!! Next time, know that you can always butt into one of my groups. If I remember, I was standing with Mary and Aidan from the IRS, and Michael Clendendin, and some others, and we had some fun. Next time . . . .
Mark: Well, you LOOK like you're enjoying it. And you're good at it. So that's why I thought you probably liked it.
Valarie and Eileen: That is a really interesting thought; you're so right . . . speaking and writing are completely different animals. Different skill sets. Different ways of making your brain work.
Writing is so solitary, and speaking/networking is so not . . . it's not fair to assume that we have both. We don't expect our accountants to lead town hall meetings, and we don't expect our IT folks to host brown bag lunches.
And yet . . . especially with social media tools, I'm finding that communicators--those solitary loner writers--are being forced to get "out in front of the microphone" more.
It's going to be interesting in the next couple of years . . . .
On a different note: I just bought and started reading Christopher Hitchins' book "God is not Great; How religion poisons everything."
And I'm not kidding: I only got to the second chapter when I was struck down by the most vicious flu I've ever had. I was burning up, laying in my bed with ice packs on my head and chest . . . then I was freezing cold, shivering so bad I thought I was going to pull a muscle.
Now, my throat is killing me, and every time I cough, which is a lot, it feels like someone is splitting my head open with an ax.
I've got some sort of God damned Biblical plague!!!!
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 14, 2008 11:08 AM
Posted on February 14, 2008 11:08
I've been the lone guy with the pool of cold sweat in the small of my back, and I've been part of the laughing group. In the latter situation, I've sometimes just watched the group dynamic. Conclusion: there is an easy solution and we all suck at doing it. It is this: IF SOMEONE JOINS YOUR GROUP, MAKE AN EFFORT TO INCLUDE HIM/HER. That should be rule 1 at a conference or any other room full of strangers.If you want to have a private talk, leave the room.
The only thing worse than butting into an established group is when you finally DO it and they ignore you.
Posted by Tim H | February 14, 2008 11:15 AM
Posted on February 14, 2008 11:15
Okay, so now that we all realize how hard it is, what can Ragan do at these socials to break the ice? Hold hands and sing Kumbaya? Is it Ragan's job at all, or is it just the harsh reality of mixers in a business setting?
Just wondering what everyone thinks.
Posted by Eileen Burmeister | February 14, 2008 11:20 AM
Posted on February 14, 2008 11:20
Tim H:
I couldn't agree more . . . when I walk into one of those cocktail parties, I know it's going to be a cluster you know what. I never plan to have a conversation with a client, or with a Ragan person, or with a friend.
And I actually DO, if I see a loner who needs help, wave them over. Every time. If everyone would do it, problem solved.
Eileen: I think Ragan has gone a long way toward solving the problem with myragan.com . . . so many people are going to come to these events having "met" someone online . . . and maybe even having set a meeting at the cocktail party.
Nobody has to be alone ever again!!!!
Does anyone have a cure for biblical plagues?
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 14, 2008 11:44 AM
Posted on February 14, 2008 11:44
I think it is also a part of the email generation - it is far easier to communicate behind a keyboard than face to face. Maybe we need a reminder on how to talk to people to their face??
Posted by Ilene | February 14, 2008 12:04 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 12:04
Steve---you know the drill: 3 hail Marys and some self-flagellation (the kind with a little whip, you perv).
Posted by Laurel | February 14, 2008 12:10 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 12:10
* what can Ragan do at these socials to break the ice? Hold hands and sing Kumbaya? *
Eileen, I'm not sure we're qualified. I'll add myself to the list of Ragan people who are paralyzed in a networking situation. I wake up in cold sweats the night before an IABC networking lunch I have to attend.
I don't think it has anything to do with communication: I can write clearly, speak in public (in your choice of two languages, no less), be a lector in church, perform on stage...but small talk terrifies me. The intrusiveness of it all terrifies me.
Mark says beginning is hard, but once you're doing it, it's easy. He forgets: he's the closest thing to a celebrity in the room, so our customers want to meet him. Same for Steve: he's home-free in a room of communicators who will seek him out.
It's not so easy for the rest of us.
Posted by Kasia | February 14, 2008 2:49 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 14:49
* what can Ragan do at these socials to break the ice? Hold hands and sing Kumbaya? *
Eileen, I'm not sure we're qualified. I'll add myself to the list of Ragan people who are paralyzed in a networking situation. I wake up in cold sweats the night before an IABC networking lunch I have to attend.
I don't think it has anything to do with communication: I can write clearly, speak in public (in your choice of two languages, no less), be a lector in church, perform on stage...but small talk terrifies me. The intrusiveness of it all terrifies me.
Mark says beginning is hard, but once you're doing it, it's easy. He forgets: he's the closest thing to a celebrity in the room, so our customers want to meet him. Same for Steve: he's home-free in a room of communicators who will seek him out.
It's not so easy for the rest of us.
Posted by Kasia | February 14, 2008 2:50 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 14:50
Couple of thoughts. I read God is Not Great. And I didnt die. But I also didnt enjoy it all that much...its a pretty tough read and you REALLY need to be into the subject I think.
I have a simple policy about networking and small talk. I just don't do it. I'm not in a position like Mark R or Steve where I have to - I guess I probably *should* for the career and all - but since I *can* skip it, I do. Life's too short. Need to spend more time doing things I enjoy, and less time doing obligatory things.
For instance, I always skipped out on all the after hours cocktail parties at the Ragan CCCs i've attended. Not that you are not nice people, but you're in Vegas.... hmmmm..... talk shop, or go see Penn & Teller and gamble? A man's gotta have priorities.
I suppose this makes me a bit antisocial and hey, i'm OK with that.
Posted by -Neruda | February 14, 2008 3:21 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 15:21
Neruda:
It IS a tough read . . . . I don't think he's a very accessible writer, or even a very good one. But he's wicked smart, and bang on with most of what he says.
You didn't get the boils? Must be a coincidence. If I was attending a conference in Vegas, and not speaking, not doing anything but going to sessions . . . you wouldn't find me anywhere near the networking reception. Unless the networking reception was taking place next to the craps tables.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 14, 2008 3:39 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 15:39
See, now there's a thought. If it was next to the craps table, it'd be a lot easier to strike up a conversation about that.
If there's a bar, I usually begin by hanging out nearby. People coming up to the bar tend to have dis-engaged from their conversations and are therefor more approachable. And if that doesn't work, at least I'm close to the beer.
Posted by Allen | February 14, 2008 5:08 PM
Posted on February 14, 2008 17:08
Kasia - I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but now that you are blogging, your celebrity is on the rise, and I suggest that you should expect people to start coming up to you too at future Ragan events.
Why, your post on the banning of poor Santa's "Ho Ho Ho-ing" alone is enough to make you a celebrity in MY book!
Speaking for myself, I will definitely be searching you out at the CCC in May to shake your hand for standing up for "Ho's"!! See you then.
Posted by Kristen | February 15, 2008 10:39 AM
Posted on February 15, 2008 10:39
I think for me (and I’m not put into this type of situation very often) is just my lack of involvement or interaction these days with anyone at all. I think you may have touch on this subject a little bit in one of your posts about not using the phone anymore and emailing whenever possible. That’s me in a nut shell, I email and text and rarely talk to anyone outside my family. I don’t talk to neighbors nor do I have friends, I shop on-line I subscribe to Netflix and the only time I do go out, it becomes a little nerve racking for me. I shop for groceries and head to the liquor store for wine and scotch and go to a few restaurants around here but other than that it’s me and my wife. (No liquor in groceries stores in TN) God forbid I have to take the car in to the shop or attend any kind of social event.
Steve NC is right in my backyard, we could have hooked up even is it was just a drink or 10.
Neruda,
Penn and Teller are Awesome! Have you seen there Showtime series “Bull Shit”?
Steve, a big hit of some good sensimilian would do wonders for what ails you.
Posted by AN | February 15, 2008 12:17 PM
Posted on February 15, 2008 12:17
AN
I thought about you when I was down there . . . but not until it was too late to try and hook up. I am such a geographical moron, I had NO IDEA that Tennessee and North Carolina were so close.
The only clue I had was when I was sitting at this beautiful hotel bar, with a roaring fire, and people sitting all over the place in rocking chairs, not talking, just sitting and rocking . . . and I see some mountains out the window, and I ask the bartender:
"What are those?"
And he says: "The Smoky Mountains."
Only then did I realize I was right next to Tennessee.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 15, 2008 2:29 PM
Posted on February 15, 2008 14:29
This post made me laugh so hard because it rang so true! I love to talk and meet new people but I HATE small talk so finding a way to engage in these kids of settings is extremely hard for me. I tend to want to ask things like," SO, what kinds of feelings did this event evoke in you?". I guess that's why I'm in the mental health field. It would be great to be a journalist and then it would be my job to interview folks! Your wife is a sharp cookie! Thanks.
Posted by akakarma | February 16, 2008 8:50 AM
Posted on February 16, 2008 08:50
So, aside from me and the charming Mark Ragan, no one likes to talk to each other at these things? Well, the answer is obvious, then. Find someone who seems even less comfortable than you are (someone furiously texting a wallet or eyeglass case) and GO TALK TO HIM OR HER. Seriously, nobody loves being thrust into a room full of people they don't know (except for Mark), so that means you have the advantage of knowing they're probably relieved when you come up to them.
Posted by Amy | February 17, 2008 10:13 AM
Posted on February 17, 2008 10:13
Last week, I read how you had a hard time cluster-butting into conversations at networking events. Inspired by the taunts of your wife, I decided to throw caution to the wind and cluster butt at my husband's work party yesterday.
Preface: My hubby is a civil engineering grad student, so work, for him, is professors and other grad students as well as other civil engineers he used to work with at the Army.
So, we're at this party yesterday and several people were standing in a circle uncomfortably talking, but mostly picking at their plates. So I, thinking I'm helping my husband further his career, pick the alpha dog of the group and ask, "Dr. Biology, what is your area of expertise?"
I'll stop the story here to say this: NEVER ask a question unless you're absolutely sure you want to know the answer.
His reply, "Pheramones and the effects on worm sex."
Seriously? He gets paid for this?
Yes. He got funding to research the mating habits and courtship of worms that live in the ocean. And since I now know all about it, you get to share the pain. Turns out, the worms are pretty particular when it comes to the Horizontal Mambo. They don't listen to Barry White and open a bottle of chianti, but they must have a full moon and nice weather.
That's as much as I'll torture you. Please keep in mind this conversation was over dinner and as hard as it was to keep eating and not bust out laughing, I made it though.
So Steve, you now have a story to use when those uncomfortable situations arise and you find yourself the center of attention in a group of strangers. Martini in hand, jump in and say, "Anyone interested in worm sex?"
Posted by Rebecca Calappi | February 18, 2008 9:00 AM
Posted on February 18, 2008 09:00
Rebecca:
I used to say that before I even heard your story!
Oh, my. I thought we communicators had it tough. How do you network and make small talk with someone like THAT????????
I'm going to remember the worm dude the next time I start feeling sorry for myself at a networking function.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 18, 2008 9:55 AM
Posted on February 18, 2008 09:55
Steve, remember the conference that was taking place next door to Web Content Management 2007? I believe it was a forum on gynecological surgery. Now _that_ makes for awkward small talk.
Posted by Kasia | February 18, 2008 11:13 AM
Posted on February 18, 2008 11:13
I'm sort of amazed to read this and the comments. I'm often kind of quiet in real social situations, but any kind of event networking I guess I'm like Mark Ragan. I'm there to make myself and my business known, so I swallow my pride and get on with it.
It makes me think I really need to write that book "Networking for the rest of us." I genuinely believe that one of the biggest flaws in coaching/consulting in general and communications coaching/consulting in particular is that it tends to be done by "naturals" who never have to come to grips with the issues that the rest of us face.
Posted by Indy | February 18, 2008 1:34 PM
Posted on February 18, 2008 13:34
Mark Ragan: I think maybe you're good at cluster-butting because, as you say, it IS your job. You're the host of the party, and it's your job to make sure everyone's having a good time. The rest of us don't really have a job to do. I figured this out a while ago and started GIVING myself a job at these functions: to find someone who looks even more miserable than I feel and make THAT person feel more comfortable. It's funny how just doing that for one person is enough to loosen me up so that the rest of the cluster-butting is easy.
Posted by Jane Greer | February 19, 2008 10:11 AM
Posted on February 19, 2008 10:11
I have no trouble cluster-butting into conversations with complete strangers (at professional communication functions) but to Ragan's credit, having a bar available certainly helps the networking experience. It also helps that the GRAND MASTERS - Crescenzo, Ylisela and Mark Ragan are mixing and mingling and introducing folks to each other at these functions. Why are they the MASTERS? Anyone who can publicly admit that talking to people from the IRS is FUN is Numero Uno in my book! I love you Steve!
Posted by Mary Manton | February 19, 2008 1:10 PM
Posted on February 19, 2008 13:10
I love YOU Mary. Jim and I can't wait to get to work in The Big Easy!!
Jane: the profession needs more people like you . . . and you're right; it's always easy to find someone having a harder time than you, and helping that person out kills all the birds with one stone.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 19, 2008 1:29 PM
Posted on February 19, 2008 13:29
I just now read my way up from the bottom and noticed that Amy said my thing before I said it.
I never, um, thought of it as "killing all the birds with one stone," but there you go.
Posted by Jane Greer | February 19, 2008 2:39 PM
Posted on February 19, 2008 14:39
Steve, I was just laughing out loud and loudly, laughing out loud while picturing you answering your wallet. That is just classic!
At my most uncomfortable in a crowd, I pretended to see someone I knew through an open door and then, of course, walked through that open door and out of the room where I knew no one.
J
Posted by Jamie Shaak | February 20, 2008 7:27 AM
Posted on February 20, 2008 07:27
Jamie:
I did that once, and then there were people out there who I didn't want to talk to, so I fixed my eyes on something far off down the hallway of the hotel, nodded, waved, and took off on a trot down the hallway.
It was masterful.
Kiss little Juliet for me!!!
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 20, 2008 1:15 PM
Posted on February 20, 2008 13:15
Jane - Just goes to show that like-minded people can come from both sides of the aisle. : ) - Amy
Posted by Amy | February 20, 2008 1:37 PM
Posted on February 20, 2008 13:37
Jane - your idea of "giving yourself a job" is perfect! Both you and Amy have hit on the solution that might work for me. Many thanks!
Posted by Beth | February 22, 2008 12:04 PM
Posted on February 22, 2008 12:04
I think it's clear that many of us don't like the networking component of our jobs ... and at some point we all just fake our way through it ....
and I also think that maybe it can be like a secret handshake at an event ... if you see someone, alone, over in the corner talking to their wallet ....go buy them a drink ...he or she is one of us!!!!
Posted by Ruth Atherley | February 25, 2008 4:23 PM
Posted on February 25, 2008 16:23
After enduring networking sessions at corporate events, I usually console myself as I toss and turn in the darkened hotel room, my pillow soggy with tears of frustration, by muttering at the ceiling that I didn't really want to hear their opinions of the weather anyway. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but I really do have a difficult time keeping a straight face when the third or fourth person in a row asks, "How about them Giants?" or comments, "Yes, I don't remember ever going this many weeks without rain before -- it must be global warming!" Forgive me if it sounds like sour grapes, but I seldom find the light of a cluster luster bright enough to illuminate very much.
Posted by Patrick | February 26, 2008 11:29 AM
Posted on February 26, 2008 11:29
We were indeed standing together, and I'd just prior to that walked up to Cindy to introduce and chat. But I was completely lost at the start of that cocktail party and feeling like the only putz who didn't know someone. Now I know we were all putz's who didn't know anyone and the lovely lady at the table with two drinks didn't have a shy tablemate! So I'll be more courageous about butting into wallet-phone-calls, one-person-two-drink tables and corner-dingle-players.
Steve, I'd pray for you but the Big Guy upstairs and I don't have a great communications relationship -- more akin to my relationship with my kids in that I ask for something and get the opposite. So best of luck with the plague-thing!
Posted by michael clendenin | March 5, 2008 12:42 PM
Posted on March 5, 2008 12:42