Every once in a while, I have the pleasure of working with someone who is really, really smart… enough so that I find myself scrambling to make sure that I’m bringing something real and valuable to the relationship. I love those opportunities, because they force me to give it my all and put myself to the test. Sometimes, I even pass.
By far my favorite such opportunity was a meeting I had in New York last December, with my brother-in-law’s agent. In twenty seven minutes, I had a chance to meet a great guy, field two substantive questions, and learn what a New York minute is really about. Before I go into what happened, let me give you the punchline: I didn’t quite measure up that day. I stumbled out of the gate. I did get to my feet and cross the finish line–and only a fraction of a moment behind–but I still came in second. When I left, I couldn’t figure out if I should be upset at myself for not doing better, or happy that I had done as well as I did. Around and around I went in my head, until my Blackberry buzzed me back to reality.
My brother-in-law’s agent–let’s call him Rich–had taken my call the week before and then took me up on my offer to come by, introduce myself, and say thanks for a favor he had done me a few months prior. I met him at 4pm on a Monday at his Midtown office. He kept me waiting less than five minutes, which surprised me. There was something about the lobby of the agency–a large, two-story room built to impress–that told me to get comfortable… this was a place designed to help agents remind their clients (and anyone else who dared enter their domain) the agent’s place in the food chain. This was a place where people waited.
But not me, not that day. I was quickly ushered in to Rich’s office, where he was finishing up a phone call. The first thing I noticed was that Rich was a lot more powerful a man than I had realized. The entire time I was in there, two lines blinked steadily to indicate callers on hold, and two more people sat in a conference room across the hall. Someone was also waiting for his double-booked 4pm meeting with Rich to start. I knew some of this because Rich told me as much during our conversation, but also because I had seen Rich’s calendar over the receptionist’s shoulder and had heard her counseling patience to the callers while I was in the lobby. Everyone waiting for Rich, yet engaged; nothing so basic as spending time in the lobby. This guy had everyone not just waiting, but hanging on the line… and doing so in plain sight of everyone else who was waiting. I looked around for other clues, but his office lacked the trappings I often find around big time execs. I saw his cards in a card holder on his desk. Does that say “Managing…”? Rich was not a big ego, he was just that good. He was someone who could keep five people waiting and simultaneously use them to impress a sixth.
His flawless social skills confirmed my impression. Rich had all the smooth a person could want in a lifetime, with none of the slick. He built rapport, established a personal connection, extracted and shared meaningful details about each of our lives, all in the span of six minutes. He smiled the entire time. He wasn’t driving–he didn’t need to, I’m fairly adept at carrying on a conversation–but he wasn’t following, either. He was… playing. Then he pounced.
“OK, so you’re on TV doing an interview, and you’ve got an audience of CEOs. A hundred of them are in the studio. What are the three things they need to know?” The question didn’t come out of nowhere, but it did come with an edge that hadn’t been in his voice a moment earlier. This was a fastball right down the middle. I looked at him for a moment, and saw by his smile that he was enjoying the game, I was playing it right and he was taking it up a level. I got the sense that he had liked what he had seen so far and wanted me to succeed… which was why he was giving me an easy one, a question he knew I must have practiced a hundred times. I gave my hook and then delivered behind it an answer that was direct, to the point, relevant, actionable, and…
…completely wrong.
His smile locked. It was just for the merest fraction of a second, but to me his tell was clear as day. He had thrown his fastball right past me. What the…? Suddenly I was a moment behind. Maybe I wasn’t playing this right. Why was my answer wrong? I cut my answer short, there was no need to go on. I redirected the conversation to buy time. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something like, “…It strikes me that I’ve only ever given this answer to people who already know me. I wonder if strangers would take my advice the same way as those who already believe in what they’re buying.” The smile softened, the conversation went on. He gave me a book, First, Break All the Rules, and we started talking about an upcoming conference he would be attending where Buckingham would be speaking.
He’s telling me this for a reason.This is not an invitation, this is a lesson… but what is it?
Another ten minutes of conversation went by. I was getting conflicting signals: I knew I had failed the test, but he hadn’t yet shown me the door. People were still waiting… he was thinking about something. He hasn’t mentally placed me yet. He’s trying to figure out where I fit. Then it came: the second test.
He stood up from his couch. I stayed still; I wasn’t going to help him end our meeting. I wanted him to play his hand, and if I got up now, our conversation would be over. He walked to his door and closed it. “OK,” he started, “Here’s a situation I’ve got that maybe you can help me with…” He proceeded to talk me through, at a high level, a problem he was having with a subordinate. When he was finished, I was leaning forward, my chin in my hand and my elbow on my knee. I was still trying to figure out why he had detoured into a conversation about Buckingham, and had no idea what he should do with his subordinate! He hadn’t given me nearly enough informa–
Then I got it; I knew what I was supposed to do. This wasn’t about the answer; the answers were all already out there. We both knew them. This was about framing the answer to make it… right! It was about taking control and giving him the answer I wanted to give instead of the answer he was asking for, about being my own man and challenging him to reconcile his thoughts against mine. Answering his question directly didn’t give him anything, because it didn’t help him place me; it left my answer without context. I needed to help him figure out where I fit! That had been my mistake earlier; hook or no, I had answered his question and left him without the context he needed. Now I’d answer my own. I sank back into my armchair, stretching my arms out on the armrests, and crossing my legs. I was slouching a little, and I could feel the muscles of my forehead slacken. I turned up the corners of my mouth, never taking my eyes off him. Was the cat being given a second chance at the canary? No time to wonder–time for the kill. “You have a choice,” I said. “Do you want to go the ‘stand-up-guy’ route, or do you want to take the easy route out of this? You can do either.”
Rich paused. I had caught him. He hadn’t been expecting that. He sat back, smiled, and nodded to himself. He was in two places at once, thinking about his ordeal and also sizing me up. He had been hoping I’d give him the right answer, but he had had his doubts that I could… and now his doubts were visibly melting. “I need to be a stand up guy on this. I owe him that much.” I nodded. I was sizing him up now, trying to tell how truthful he was being with himself. I decided that he had the courage to have the conversation I was about to suggest, and went on to tell him how to handle his next conversation, as well as what would happen next. The advice was good, I had no doubt about that, but what I could see in his eyes was, the answer had been right. No frozen smile this time. We watched the ball sail out of the park, and we were both glad to see it go.
Our meeting wrapped up shortly after, and I left, having batted .500 on the two questions, pleased with my ability to hang in there, and disappointed that I hadn’t done better.
When I answered my phone, my wife was on the other line. “How’d your meeting with Rich go?”
“Sweetheart, it takes me two hours to get a full read on a person, and Rich had me nailed in a New York minute. He spent 6 minutes opening me up, and then with one question he got everything he needed to know and discovered I’m not ready for prime time.”
“It was over that fast, huh?”
“No, I somehow earned an additional 21 minutes from him as well as a second chance.”
“How’d you do the second time around?”
“A lot better.”
“So that’s good, no?”
“Yeah… but still, he was the better man today. He was the one giving the chances, you know what I mean? V, I’ve never been sized up so fast. There’s a big part of me hates that he was better than me today, but I have to admit, there is another part of me that loves what just happened. I would never have believed it possible if I hadn’t seen it.”
“Believed what is possible?”
“That so much can be packed into a single moment in time. This guy is in command of a skill that for the rest of the world is an ineffable, visceral reaction. It was awesome to watch. Sitting in his office, I could emulate it, too. Not quite as fast as him, but it was there for me when I needed it. Who knew!” My wife had, and has, no patience for the esoteric.
“What’s your follow up?”
“Are you kidding? None! I ran a close race, but I still came in second. I don’t get to call Rich again until I’ve made it on my own.”
“Do you think he’ll take your call?”
“Not if I call before I’m ready. No way. I don’t need to, anyway. If the time is ever right, he’ll call me. I don’t think I’ll forget our meeting today, and I don’t think he will, either. In the meantime, he has a much more important job to do: take care of our brother-in-law!”
That meeting in New York last December is, to this day, one of my favorite encounters. It moved so fast… and on such a core level… the dance Rich did was sublime. Most of the people this guy deals with never see him coming, I’m sure. It was a pleasure to watch, and learn from, a master at work. Not that I ever wish for failure, but if I’m going to come up short every once in awhile, I want it to be exactly like that, in a situation that takes me to the edge of my abilities and then some.
Posted under Job Interviews, Self-Development, Personal, Assessment