Inanimate objects aren’t the only things that are rich with tips and shortcuts. People are, too.
Herewith: Some of the most useful ways to get the most out of your social interactions.
The ultimate guide to remembering names
It’s pretty embarrassing to forget somebody’s name, isn’t it?
If you met six people all at once, well, they’ll usually cut you some slack. But if you’ve just met one or two people, and they’re important—well, forgetting their names is panic-making.
Getting better at remembering names isn’t rocket science; it’s primarily about making it a priority. Usually, meeting someone is a chaotic blur of new information: Who these new people are, the new setting you’re in, how they’re perceiving you, and so on. You have to remember to remember names.
Once you’ve made up your mind, though, there are three tricks to remembering someone’s name.
• Easiest: Say the person’s name in your head at least three times, preferably while looking at him. “Harry. Harry. Harry.” You’re creating new neural pathways in your brain that will make it easier to recall him later.
• Better: Say the person’s name out loud a couple of times. Don’t just say, “Hello!”—say “Nice to meet you, Charlotte!” And then again: “So Charlotte—what brings you to Apathetics Anonymous?”
If you can find any excuse to discuss the person’s name, you’re golden. A little bit of “Are you a V-Steven or a PH-Stephen?” or “Do you write Esmé with a little accent on e?” works wonders for locking it into your memory.
• When your happiness depends on it: If it’s worth even more effort to remember someone’s name, make up a mnemonic—an association, based on the other person’s appearance, clothing, background, hometown, and so on. People who remember your name months later do it this way.
If his name is Rob, and he has a squarish face, say to yourself, “Rob the Robot. Rob the Robot.” If her name is Chloe, and she’s from Cleveland, well, there ya go: “Chloe from Cleveland.” The sillier the image, the better you’ll remember.
Helping other people remember names
Now suppose that someone else is being introduced to the group. That poor soul, having to remember five names before sitting down to dinner!
Remember the last time you were the new person, and you couldn’t remember someone’s name, how grateful you were that somebody addressed that person by name, so that you got another chance?
Great! Now you be that person. Use other people’s names when you talk to them. “I knew you’d say that, Arnold!” “Pipe down, Randall.” “Hey, Fiona, can you pass the salt?”
And it works the other way, too. Use the new person’s name, to help everyone else out.
Each time, you’re making the new member become even meltier with gratitude. —Hitman616
Introducing two people whose names you’re supposed to know
If you’re supposed to introduce someone you know (say, your spouse) to someone whose name you’ve forgotten, you have only one way out: Clever phrasing.
Say to the forgotten person—“Hey, have you met Gertrude?”
At that point, if you’re lucky, the two introduced parties will complete the transaction for you. Gertrude says, “Hello!”
And the forgotten person says, “Hi. I’m Esmé.”
And now you know her name!
(If Gertrude is smart, she’ll now say: “Do you write Esmé with a little accent on e?”)
What not to say when someone dies
You want to be a good person. You want to be helpful. You want to help soothe the grieving spouse, parent, child.
But there are only so many things a person can say—and a lot of them, frankly, don’t actually provide any comfort. Some actually make things worse. For example:
• “At least she lived a long life.” That’s no consolation at all, and therefore a tad bit insensitive.
• “Well, she’s in a better place now” or “God works in mysterious ways.” What if the grieving person doesn’t believe in heaven? Then that’s a pretty hollow remark. Besides, that doesn’t lessen the bereaved person’s loss any.
• “Well, thank goodness you still have other children.” No.
• “I know how you must feel.” No, you really don’t. It wasn’t your loved one who died; it’s almost arrogant to claim that you know how it feels.
• “Well, be strong; your kids need you.” Oh, great. You’re expecting the grieving person to feel even worse, because she’s forgetting about her kids? You can’t turn off your emotions; it doesn’t work that way.
So if you’re not supposed to say any of those common phrases, what are you supposed to say?
Say what you feel, and what you’re willing to do. Make it better, not worse:
• “I am so sorry for your loss.” That’s true, isn’t it? You can’t go wrong.
• “I’m here to help any way I can.” When you’ve just lost someone close to you, you’re adrift. It can be an enormous relief when someone makes an offer to help—especially if it’s specific, like, “Hey, I’m going to the grocery later. Can I bring you anything?”
• “I remember how she used to …” A brief, favorite memory. People tend to think that not mentioning the dead person is somehow helpful; actually, it’s strange, and disturbing for everyone to avoid the subject. Offer to talk.
• “How are you doing?” Don’t ask it the way you’d ask someone coming into the office. Ask it in a way that signifies you really want to know, that you truly care, that you’re patient enough to listen to the answer.
Often, though, the most meaningful and understanding gesture is silence. Just showing up is already a wonderful gesture; a hug, a loving look, holding hands, being present and available for whatever conversation the grieving person feels up to.
The “stranger code word” for kid pickups
Imagine that you’re supposed to pick up your kid from some activity—but you’re delayed. You can dispatch a trustworthy friend, neighbor, or coworker to pick her up instead—but you’ve spent years teaching your child never to accept rides from strangers! What to do?
The time to think about this scenario is now, before it happens. Teach your child a code word or phrase: “lemon ice cream,” “Barney’s underpants,” or whatever.
Then, if you ever have to send a substitute chauffeur, you’ll tell him to introduce himself with that password, so that your offspring will know he’s your authorized representative and not some slimy predator.