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Don’t drop a frozen steak on their platter

You wouldn’t dream of going to a party naked. And I hope you wouldn’t dream of letting your conversation be exposed naked and defenceless against the two inevitable assaults ‘Where are you from?’ and ‘What do you do?’

When asked these questions, most people, like clunking a frozen steak on a china platter, drop a brick of frozen geography or baffling job title on the asker’s conversational platter. Then they slap on the muzzle.

You’re at a convention. Everyone you meet will, of course, ask ‘And where are you from?’ When you give them the short-form naked-city answer ‘Oh, I’m from Muscatine, Iowa’ (or Millinocket, Maine; Winnemucca, Nevada; or anywhere they haven’t heard of), what can you expect except a blank stare? Even if you’re a relatively big-city slicker from Denver, Colorado; Detroit, Michigan; or San Diego, California, you’ll receive a panicked look from all but American history professors. They’re rapidly racking their brains thinking ‘What do I say next?’ Even the names of world-class burgs like New York, London, Paris, and Los Angeles inspire less-than-riveting responses. When I tell people I’m from New York City, what are they expected to say? ‘Duh, seen any good muggings lately?’

Do humanity and yourself a favour. Never, ever, give just a one-sentence response to the question, ‘Where are you from?’ Give the asker some fuel for his tank, some fodder for his trough. Give the hungry communicator something to conversationally nibble on. All it takes is an extra sentence or two about your city – some interesting fact, some witty observation – to hook the asker into the conversation.

Several months ago, a trade association invited me to be its keynote speaker on networking and teaching people to be better conversationalists. Just before my speech, I was introduced to Mrs Devlin, who was the head of the association.

‘How do you do?’ she asked.

‘How do you do?’ I replied.

Then Mrs. Devlin smiled, anxiously awaiting a sample of my stimulating conversational expertise. I asked her where she was from. She plunked a frozen ‘Columbus, Ohio’ and a big expectant grin on my platter. I had to quickly thaw her answer into digestible conversation. My mind thrashed into action. Leil’s thought pattern: ‘Gulp, Columbus, Ohio. I’ve never been there, hmm. Criminy, what do I know about Columbus? I know a fellow named Jeff, a successful speaker who lives there. But Columbus is too big to ask if she knows him … and besides only kids play the “Do-you-know-so-and-so” game.’ My panicked silent search continued. ‘I think it’s named after Christopher Columbus … but I’m not sure, so I better keep my mouth shut on that one.’ Four or five other possibilities raced through my mind but I rejected them all as too obvious, too adolescent, or too off-the-wall.