When theory Meets Practice: How to speak to anyone?

There are two kinds of people in this life:

Those who walk into a room and say,

"Well, here I am!"

And those who walk in and say,

"Ahh, There you are."

                                                                            :-Leil Lowndes (1999)

When I walked into Impact Africa offices at Mombasa road in the afternoon, I was confident. Fully prepared to impress and walk back proudly with at least a promise of consideration, or in the least a referral to some equally successful Public relations firm.

You see, I just completed the second chapter of Leil Lowndes’ How to Talk to Anyone, published by McGraw-Hill  and as it were, I was to dare putting theory into practice. Lowndes methodically starts the first part with what most would agree is the most basic, yet immensely communicative non-verbal cue into a conversation; the smile.

I would never have forgotten how to make your smile magically different, or the ever so practical, how to strike everyone as intelligent and insightful using your eyes. Or I could have skipped to the second part where she majors on how to know what to say after you say “hi”; the intrigues of small talk and the trick to never wondering “what do I say next?”

Now that you know how much wisdom I was armed with, I should remind you why you had to do that same Chemistry experiment several times in the lab after only one overview of the procedure in the classroom. There’s a huge rift between theory and application; in fact after my experience today I think it may be even wider than most people are aware or care to find out.

Elevator door opens, enter fourth floor, Somak House. Right in front of the wide open elevator door is the entrance to Impact Africa. I must say that I did suspect the gentleman who had left the lift before me, had pressed some button that made it strangely accelerate, the ascend was too fast. The two were only divorced by a thin hallway that the entrances mapped strictly into each other. There was no point in delaying, I fumbled.

Whoever approved the open office plan must have been sent by the very goddess of intimidation. As I fought with the elevator door I could see most of the employees busy on their workstations. When I covered the distance between the elevator (which had now abandoned me to chauffeur some other somebody) and the entrance, and stood momentarily at the door, they suddenly looked up (I might have imagined that too!).

That’s the moment I realized the “why” stories of the tortoise cracking its shell were mere folklore of a people who had not a hint at a scientific explanation of their environment or their existence. Even more relevant I realized the likes Leil Lowndes’ “How” manuals to whatever social phenomenon that exists, are just chunks of texts that plainly massage our emotional deficiencies. At that moment, It was just that; a manual!

That said, I was to meet who checked out literally every item on Lowndes' communication checklist. I sauntered to her direction and managed to mutter what was left of sub-conscious ‘how to speak to anyone’ script.  

At this point I must say I couldn't tell which of the two kinds of people Lowndes outlines I was. Maybe there's a third one who says "Hell, Where am I?"

This lady, Vallerie, in the brief moment that I got to engage with her, did know how to make someone feel like an old friend at once, knew perfectly how to resuscitate a dying conversation, scored A’s on that magically different smile test and I could say she could make “Where are you from?” sound exciting.

When I walked out, the elevator had just come to my aid and I hopped in literally assuming that it knew I was headed for the ground floor.  I couldn’t help but compare the amiable reception at Impact Africa to the hostility that I have been treated with elsewhere. Like this annoying lady receptionist at a government bureau with a pseudo-aura of a chief executive, donning a third-tier Eastleigh suit and some Murang’a Road hells, who wouldn’t let me past the lobby like her name was on the door. Then I realized I hadn't pressed the ground floor button when some wiry old executive sent us to six floors above.

I am really having trouble understanding the psychology of the typical receptionist. I bet Lowndes’ How to sound smarter than you are, would suffice as an enduring fix to this grossly unchecked, and exasperating miscommunication.