I learn late in life to shut up

I just read a great post on a blog I read for work about how a 50-cent doll from Goodwill could gurgle and coo, but a more expensive doll from Kohls didn’t make a sound. She joked that the doll’s silence is what made it more expensive.

Her point was that, in our industry, there are a lot of people who talk when they should be listening. There are a lot of people who think salespeople do nothing but talk. I learned fresh out of college in my first sales job that this is not the case. My job was then and is now to get you to talk.

How can I help you find the right job for you if I don’t listen to your story about the last job you had? How can the dude down at Gateway Market help you find the perfect cheese to cure your craving if he won’t listen to you describe your need for cheese? How can the woman in the convenience store give you directions if she doesn’t know who you’re visiting?

Well, you might think the woman in the convenience store should hear about WHAT or WHERE you are visiting, but then we would all know you’ve never been to a super-small town. We went to Orange City, Iowa a couple years ago and when asking for help, the reply was, “Who are you here to see?” When we told her, she knew exactly how to get us to the right destination. Would have been even funnier if she’d said, “They’re not home today, they’re up on the farm visiting her sister.” Ha! But I digress…I’m talking too much.

I have become quiet. I do not need to add to every conversation anymore. I talk less than I used to. By talk, I mean actually opening my mouth and making words come out because, obviously, I blog.

(Being quiet doesn’t mean I don’t have something to say! Holy wow, that is SO not the case. I totally have stuff to say! Keep reading! Read every day! Read early, read often.)

I have even *gasp* made many a conscious decision to withhold my opinion from a conversation. CAN YOU IMAGINE?

Last weekend, I was walking with an old friend and the two women with us were running a constant stream of chat that went like this:

We could go this way.
We could. We could also go down there.
I think we should go this way. O! Look at those flowers.
The path is wet, let’s cut through the grass.
We should have gone on the sidewalk.
I wonder when they poured this sidewalk.
It looks new. They need more.
Wow, the lake looks really nice. I wonder if that’s where they rent boats.
They rent boats?
Look at how the sidewalk curves.
Do you think they rent boats there?
I like the landscaping, but they need a sidewalk where everyone is cutting. And more flowers.
What sort of boats do they rent, do you think?
Watch for the mud there.
Maybe people put their own boats in there.

During this entire exchange, I walked along in silence. My old friend noticed. He asked me why I wasn’t saying anything.

I just looked at him.

I mean! Really! What do you say?

I thought, “I can see the sidewalks and the flowers and since I wasn’t moving my face, I read the sign about the boat rental place?”

I didn’t say anything. I just smiled. I have grown quiet.

There are a few people who will read this and not know what I’m talking about because I talk just fine around them. There is an equation in play: an investment is made and returned. I listen to you and you listen to me and we learn from each other. We grow together. We support and chide and laugh and love and share and sit in companionable silence.

All I’m saying is that chit-chat tends to get me into trouble and I have finally learned to run with my lack of skill at making small talk. It’s OK to be quiet if you can’t add to what is being said.