A Quart Of Milk And A New Best Friend
My daughters swear that I can go to the store for milk and come back with milk and a new best friend. They used to be in awe of my ability to strike up a conversation nearly anywhere with anyone. I think Mr. OddP still is a little... well, not awed exactly, but perhaps bemused by it. How do I know what to say?
Well, my mom was Miss Shy McShyerston in her youth, and found that she had to figure out how to talk to people; she was sent away to a boarding school when she was 12 (The Grier School for Girls which is still extant in Pennsylvania). Her parents weren't fobbing her off; they lived in a small Mexican town and there was no high school or equivalent. All the kids went away to school when they got to the right age. But there she was, younger than most of the other girls and with no mom to hide behind, so she learned to talk to people. (Anybody want to know the secret? Give three compliments a day. They don't have to be giant effusive ones, but "That sweater is a wonderful color!" is easy, and goes a long way. People never hate hearing nice things. OK, some do. But they can be safely dismissed as Curmudgeons.)
So, I learned to do that too. And it works. It helps that I am an ENFP (as measured by the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory), and very strongly extroverted; it doesn't drain my battery to talk to people. In fact, put me in my house for three days without errands to do and I can feel myself deflating, and not in a good way. I have to be out among people. And I can start a conversation with a door post.
But something doesn't work.
Well, my mom was Miss Shy McShyerston in her youth, and found that she had to figure out how to talk to people; she was sent away to a boarding school when she was 12 (The Grier School for Girls which is still extant in Pennsylvania). Her parents weren't fobbing her off; they lived in a small Mexican town and there was no high school or equivalent. All the kids went away to school when they got to the right age. But there she was, younger than most of the other girls and with no mom to hide behind, so she learned to talk to people. (Anybody want to know the secret? Give three compliments a day. They don't have to be giant effusive ones, but "That sweater is a wonderful color!" is easy, and goes a long way. People never hate hearing nice things. OK, some do. But they can be safely dismissed as Curmudgeons.)
So, I learned to do that too. And it works. It helps that I am an ENFP (as measured by the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory), and very strongly extroverted; it doesn't drain my battery to talk to people. In fact, put me in my house for three days without errands to do and I can feel myself deflating, and not in a good way. I have to be out among people. And I can start a conversation with a door post.
But something doesn't work.