About a year ago, I received a call from man I thought was a big cat—but he swiftly shrunk to a little puss. Marty was the marketing director of an early dot-com company. Most of them became dot bombs by the turn of the century, but, as he told anyone who would listen, he “single-handedly saved the company.” Marty had invited me to lunch to discuss the possibility of my training their customer service reps in telephone skills.
From his swagger into the restaurant, I sensed he was not the shy sensitive type. As soon as we sat down, he confirmed it. Like a Wild West cowboy slamming his gun on the saloon counter, Marty whipped out his cell phone and whacked it on the table next to his dessert spoon. Before I could even pick up the menu, his hand and phone were again in an embrace. After a barely audible “excuse me,” he eagerly listened to his messages. I pretended that the menu mesmerized me until it finally dawned upon him he had a dining partner.
After the waiter took our order, we began chatting. Suddenly, I heard an infant crying, but where was it coming from? I turned around, but there were no babies in the restaurant.
Marty looked at me with a “hardy-har-har, fooled you” grin. As he picked up the howling phone, he proudly announced, “That’s a recording of my kid crying. It drives the wife crazy.”
She’s not the only one. I am SO not going to work for you!
Being imprisoned in Marty’s cell phone hell just wouldn’t be worth it. His digital infant howled three more times during our lunch. Each time, he picked it up and looked lovingly into its little backlit face. He was calculating who was more important, the caller or me.
As we left the restaurant, I fantasized him as a baby crawling around the house in nothing but diapers with his cell phone attached by a big safety pin.
How many times have you been chatting amicably with someone and suddenly your sentence is cut short by the sound of chimes, Beethoven’s Fifth, Led Zeppelin, or salsa resonating from her pocket or purse? Like submitting to the spell of singing mermaids, she dives for her cell and stares at the screen for a second. Even if she deems you more important than the caller and puts it back in its resting place, the damage is done. She had no sensitivity to your feelings. No Emotional Prediction.
You probably think I am going to say, “Turn your cell phone off before meeting with someone.” Sure, that’s a good idea—but just average. Here is how to openly demonstrate your deference for someone.
One time, on a blind date, a Czech architect spun my heart like a top. Ivan Batucuda was good looking, but that was not the reason. He was well spoken, but that was not the reason. He seemed kind, but that was not the reason. Curious?
As soon as we sat down at the restaurant, with out breaking eye contact or missing a word, Ivan reached in his pocket. I heard the power-down music of his cell under his voice. That sweet sound told me that, at that moment, I was more important than anyone who could possibly be calling him.
Did I hear someone say, “But that’s manipulative. Why didn’t he just turn off his cell phone before meeting you?”
My answer is this. “Is it manipulative when American soldiers salute a general? Is it manipulative when the Brits stand for the queen? Is it manipulative when Thai children kneel beside their elders on their New Year and wash their feet with lustral water?”
No, I say, they are demonstrating deference.
If the soldiers, citizens, or kids were saluting, standing, or spreading water all over the place ahead of time, generals, queens, and elders could not relish the respect they were expressing. And, if you turn your cell phone off ahead of time, your friend or colleague won’t be able to witness and relish your esteem.
Little Trick #83
Let Them Hear You Turn It Off
Demonstrate your deference for someone by leaving your cell phone on until you sit down for the discussion, the dinner, or just “precious” time together. Then, at the very beginning of your rendezvous, reach for it. Without breaking eye contact, nonchalantly turn the potential interruption off. The lyrics to the power-down music are, “For these moments, you have priority over anyone in the world.”
“Oops!” you ask, “What if I forgot to do this and it rings while I’m with the person?” Calmly proceed to the next maneuver.
Just like rolling a coin on your knuckles, the following move demands agility and practice. First, place your cell in its usual carrying position. Then rehearse reaching for it with out looking and pressing the off key. But silencing it is not enough. Let them hear that sweet power-down song afterward.
This Little Trick is especially impressive if you execute it while speaking and you don’t miss a syllable. Practice it a dozen times. You’ll get the hang of it.
Here is another way to help people feel good about them-selves—and therefore you!