Never underestimate the power of storing minute details about your friends and family.
Some may call it hoarding, some call it having an internal encyclopedia, but ultimately, it works as a really great networking device: "How weird that you know that one really bizarre café from that really small town that my second cousin twice removed lives in! We're practically related!"
You know, except that you say it in a way that seamlessly convinces them that the world is the size of a bean and that, apparently, the gods ordained this moment. Which God probably did, but that's not the point right now.
My dad is the bomb at this.
For instance, we were once in Arizona in the desert.
Not like, how all Arizona is the desert.
The actual desert.
And my family and I were riding four-wheelers around and ran into this family with their trailer who offered us some of their homemade beef jerky and tabasco sauce because, you know, when in Arizona, eat questionable food from strangers.
My dad got his chat on with them and he and the guy realized that they had played against one another in fifth grade football.
...what.
This is like an on the reg situation. My father could find a connection in Timbuktu.
And people love him for it.
I also do not see this as a manipulation device but rather, using your assets to ease/speed up connection. They're going to like you (what's not to like?) they just need a little catalyst.
First business trip was last week.
12 Dallas schools in 2 days (read: exhaustion)
Did I mention that my predecessor in this job is unreasonably good at what she does? (read: intimidation)
I needed to make a good impression, in my own way.
Because I'm not like my predecessor. I'm like me.
You'd be surprised by what kinds of things you'll find in common with people if you ask the right questions.
For instance, on my trip, I ran into the old basketball coach from my high school alma mater (what??) and we reminisced about his favorite game coaching, at which I was a viewer. Bonded over our mutual fascination at one of the players from our opposition.
At another school, the dean heard that I'd just moved home from the UK, mentioned that his daughter has been living there, and where her husband (or friend) had just started a coffee shop. I happen to really like that small town and know for a fact that they have some salted caramel truffle that is to die for.
It was all just really fun. And a good reminder to never take any interaction or experience for granted. You really never know when you might be talking to your father's primary school football rival.
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