Just as the first glimpse should please their eyes, your first words
should delight their ears. Your tongue is a welcome mat embossed
with either "Welcome" or "Go Away!" To make your conversation
partner feel welcome, you must master small talk.
Small talk! Can you hear the shudder? Those two little words
drive a stake into the hearts of some otherwise fearless and
undaunted souls. Invite them to a party where they don't know
anyone, and it mainlines queasiness into their veins.
If this sounds familiar, take consolation from the fact that the
brighter the individual, the more he or she detests small talk.
When consulting for Fortune 500 companies, I was astounded.
Top executives, completely comfortable making big talk with their
boards of directors or addressing their stockholders, confessed they
felt like little lost children at parties where the pratter was less than
prodigious.
Small-talk haters take further consolation from the fact that
you are in star-studded company. Fear of small talk and stage
fright are the same thing. The butterflies you feel in your stomach when you're in a roomful of strangers flutter 'round the tum02 (043-92B) part two 8/14/03 9:17 AM Page 43
Copyright 2003 by Leil Lowndes. Click Here for Terms of Use.
mies of top performers. Pablo Casals complained of lifelong stage
fright. Carly Simon curtailed live performances because of it. A
friend of mine who worked with Neil Diamond said he insisted
the words to "Song Sung Blue," a tune he'd been crooning for forty
years, be displayed on his teleprompter, lest fear freeze him into
forgetfulness.
Is Small-Talk-a-Phobia Curable?
Someday, scientists say, communications fears may be treatable
with drugs. They're already experimenting with Prozac to change
people's personalities. But some fear disastrous side effects. The
good news is that when human beings think, and genuinely feel,
certain emotions—like confidence that they have specific techniques to fall back on—the brain manufactures its own antidotes.
If fear and distaste of small talk is the disease, knowing solid techniques like the ones we explore in this section is the cure.
Incidentally, science is beginning to recognize it's not chance
or even upbringing that one person has a belly of butterflies and
another doesn't. In our brains, neurons communicate through
chemicals called neurotransmitters. Some people have excessive
levels of a neurotransmitter called norepinephrine, a chemical
cousin of adrenaline. For some children, just walking into a kindergarten room makes them want to run and hide under a table.
As a tot, I spent a lot of time under the table. As a preteen in
an all-girls boarding school, my legs turned to linguine every time
I had to converse with a male. In eighth grade, I once had to invite
a boy to our school prom. The entire selection of dancing males
lived in the dormitory of our brother school. And I only knew one
resident, Eugene. I had met Eugene at summer camp the year
before. Mustering all my courage, I decided to call him.
Two weeks before the dance, I felt the onset of sweaty palms.
I put the call off. One week before, rapid heartbeat set in. I put
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the call off. Finally, three days before the big bash, breathing
became difficult. Time was running out.
The critical moment, I rationalized, would be easier if I read
from a script. I wrote out the following: "Hi, this is Leil. We met
at camp last summer. Remember?" (I programmed in a pause
where I hoped he would say "yes.") "Well, National Cathedral
School's prom is this Saturday night and I'd like you to be my
date." (I programmed in another pause where I prayed he'd say
"yes.")
On Thursday before the dance, I could no longer delay the
inevitable. I picked up the receiver and dialed. Clutching the
phone waiting for Eugene to answer, my eyes followed perspiration droplets rolling down my arm and dripping off my elbow. A
small salty puddle was forming around my feet. "Hello?" a sexy,
deep male voice answered the dorm phone.
In faster-than-a-speeding-bullet voice, like a nervous novice
telemarketer, I shot out, "Hi, this is Leil. We-met-at-camp—lastsummer-remember?" Forgetting to pause for his assent, I raced on,
"Well-National-Cathedral-School's-prom-is-this-Saturday-nightand-I'd-like-you-to-be-my-date."
To my relief and delight, I heard a big, cheerful "Oh that's
great, I'd love to!" I exhaled my first normal breath all day. He continued, "I'll pick you up at the girl's dorm at 7:30. I'll have a pink
carnation for you. Will that go with your dress? And my name is
Donnie."
Donnie? Donnie! Who said anything about Donnie?
Well, Donnie turned out to be the best date I had that decade.
Donnie had buckteeth, a head full of tousled red hair, and communications skills that immediately put me at ease.
On Saturday night, Donnie greeted me at the door, carnation
in hand and grin on face. He joked self-deprecatingly about how
he was dying to go to the prom so, knowing it was a case of mistaken identity, he accepted anyway. He told me he was thrilled
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when "the girl with the lovely voice" called, and he took full
responsibility for "tricking" me into an invitation. Donnie made
me comfortable and confident as we chatted. First we made small
talk and then he gradually led me into subjects I was interested in.
I flipped over Donnie, and he became my very first boyfriend.
Donnie instinctively had the small-talk skills that we are now
going to fashion into techniques to help you glide through small
talk like a hot knife through butter. When you master them, you
will be able—like Donnie—to melt the heart of everyone you
touch.
The goal of How to Talk to Anyone is not, of course, to make
you a small-talk whiz and stop there. The aim is to make you a
dynamic conversationalist and forceful communicator. However,
small talk is the first crucial step toward that goal.