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Technique #14
Eavesdrop In
No Whatzit? No host for Whoozat? No problem! Just
sidle up behind the swarm of folks you want to infil-
trate and open your ears. Wait for any flimsy excuse
and jump in with “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but
overhear. . . .”
Will they be taken aback? Momentarily.
Will they get over it? Momentarily.
Will you be in the conversation? Absolutely!
02 (043-92B) part two 8/14/03 9:17 AM Page 62
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
defenseless against the two inevitable assaults “Where are you
from?” and “What do you do?”
When asked these questions, most people, like clunking a fro-
zen 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 Milli-
nocket, 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, Michi-
gan; 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, Chicago, Washington, and Los Ange-
les 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?”
63
How to Make “Where
Are You From?”
Sound Exciting
✰
15
02 (043-92B) part two 8/14/03 9:17 AM Page 63
Copyright 2003 by Leil Lowndes. Click Here for Terms of Use.
Do humanity and yourself a favor. 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 hun-
gry 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 pat-
tern: “Gulp, Columbus, Ohio. I’ve never been there, hmm. Crim-
iny, 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.
I realized by now that seconds had passed, and Mrs. Devlin
was still standing there with a slowly dissipating smile on her face.
She was waiting for me (the “expert” who, within the hour, was
expected to teach her trade association lessons on scintillating con-
versation) to spew forth words of wit or wisdom.
“Oh, Columbus, gee,” I mumbled in desperation, watching
her face fall into the worried expression of a patient being asked
by the surgeon, knife poised in hand, “Where’s your appendix?”
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How to Talk to Anyone
02 (043-92B) part two 8/14/03 9:17 AM Page 64
I never came up with stimulating conversation on Columbus.
But, just then, under the knife, I created the following technique
for posterity. I call it “Never the Naked City.”
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