Elevator Speech

If you got on an elevator and met someone you wanted to work with, would you know how to convince them to give you a chance?

The elevator speech is a common tool touted by employment coaches and networking groups. The idea is that if you were in an elevator with someone you wanted to impress, you’d better be able to impress them before they get to their floor. Generally, you should be able to give them your spiel in thirty seconds. It’s a simple idea, but it’s execution can be tricky.

The name is actually a bit of a misnomer, and one of the reasons people have trouble creating a good elevator speech. You see, it isn’t really a speech at all.

If it isn’t a speech, what is it? That’s easy. It’s the start of a conversation.

The first part of your elevator speech tells the other person what you do, something that will intrigue the other person enough that they’ll want to know more. It is not your job title.

“Hi. I'm Tam. I tell stories that help people and businesses.”

Once someone has asked for more information (“How do you do that?”), you need to tell them why they should care what you do, how it relates to them.

“Everyone has a story that connects them to others. Using traditional and social media, I get those stories out there.”

At this point, you’re likely to get another request for more information (“Really? How?”). This is the opening you want. Rather than giving them the details of your business, you leave them with the promise of more. You suggest a meeting.

“I'd love to sit down with you later to discuss it.”

Ask for the other person’s business card. You can offer yours, too. Offer sincere thanks and a handshake (or a hug if that's your thing). Tell them it was nice to meet them and that you hope you can be helpful to one another in the future. After you get home, send them a written thank you note. They'll remember you.

That’s all there is to it. Create an initial statement that describes what you do in such a way that the person you’re talking to wants to know more. When you give them more, give them enough to have a real idea of what you do, but leave them wanting still more. And then ask for the meeting to give them the more that they want.

Do you know what would say to create the opportunity that could change your life?

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

Asking a question or telling someone what you want takes almost no time. And you certainly accomplish it within just five minutes.

When I was 15 I went to Mexico with the Girl Scouts. In order to afford the trip I sold tons of cookies, wrapped packages in the mall, and participated in several other fundraisers. I earned enough money to not only pay for the trip, but to give me a bit to spend while there.

The trip was great. There were five of us who went – two adults and three girls. We spent the first week in Cuernavaca at Our Cabana, one of the Girl Scout World Centers. From there we had day trips to other areas. We visited pyramids. We worked on service projects at a local orphanage. We saw the silver artistry of Taxco, where I bought silver earrings for several of my friends. And we got to know the counselors who worked at Our Cabana.

One morning, after we'd already returned from Taxco, we were at breakfast and I noticed the earrings that one of the counselors wore. They were simple silver drama masks – Comedie on one ear, Tragedie on the other. In my group of friends back home, one of the ways we let someone know that we liked something they had was to ask them to will it to us. So that's what I did.

“Sue, you should leave your earrings to me in your will. They're awesome.”

Sue looked a bit disconcerted and didn't really respond. Sometimes adults acted funny about the idea of their wills, of their death, so I dropped it. I didn't think about it the rest of the week.

On our last day I sat outside with my luggage, waiting for the rest of my group, talking with some of the other girls I'd met during the week. Counselors stopped by to say goodbye and wish us well on the rest of our travels. Sue cae up and did the same. But then she took a step, paused, and stepped back.

“Which one of you was the one who said I should put them in my will?”

I swallowed, knowing I was about to get lectured on the inappropriateness of having done so. I squeaked out the word, “Me.”

“Here.” She handed me the earrings I had liked. “You're not going to get another chance to get back to Taxco, and I go there every couple of weeks. I want you to have them. Have a good trip.” And she walked away.

The girls I was sitting with asked me why she gave them to me. And I heard in their tones and saw in their faces that what they were really asking was why she hadn't given them anything. It was a simple answer – I had asked for them.

I had always heard the proverbs The squeaky wheel gets the oil, and Ask and ye shall receive, but I had never really applied them to my life. I certainly hadn't intended for Sue to give me the earrings I'd admired simply because I'd asked her to. But she did. A five dollar pair of earring – easy enough for her to replace. But a priceless gift and lesson for me.

Something similar happened at work about a week ago. I was asked to stay on the contract for another two months, but I was asked on the day I had planned to give notice at my apartment. I had already begun packing for my move. I had help lined up to help me move from North Dakota to Colorado. I looked at several factors over the weekend, and determined that it didn't make financial or logistical sense for me to stay through November. I would be leaving the first week of October, as planned.

I sent an e-mail to all the pertinent people, letting them know my decision. But, I added, half-joking, if they wanted to let me telecommute from Colorado, I'd be happy to stay on the project. Today – one week after they received that e-mail – the paperwork was signed. That's record time for the federal government. This seems to be an unprecedented situation. And I know that if I hadn't asked, it wouldn't have happened.

How can you let someone know what you want in just five minutes?

Check the Date

We all fear rejection. Which is why asking someone on a date is a hard thing to do. But being wishy-washy about asking someone on a date -- that's can be even worse.

I helped out one of the new employees at work -- showed him how to save a ton of time on a particular project by automating the data entry. Friday he came by my cube.

"I want to thank you again for helping me out. You saved me a lot of work. Will you let me thank you by taking you out to dinner on Saturday."

Keep in my mind that he's talking to me in the middle of the workday, at my cube, and there are plenty of our coworkers around who hear him. The situation makes it seem much less like he's asking me out, and more like it really is a thank you dinner. Plus, as Chuck Klosterman points out in Downtown Owl, the people around here are friendly but not particularly interested in becoming friends. He's been here a month and is probably as starved for a non-work conversation as I am.

Even recognizing he might be asking as a date, I said yes, because he didn't say it was a date. He said it was a thank you. I try to take people at their word.

Also, generally if someone couches a date in other terms, they don't make it extremely date-like. They take the dinner (or whatever) as a time to gauge whether or not a real date is a possibility.

So we go to dinner. There's a yellow rose in a vase on the table. Jazz is playing softly in the background. It's nice. This is Dickinson. There are few vegetarian options on the menu. I order an entrée salad. He orders steak. We have a nice dinner, good conversation. After dinner, as we're leaving, he tells me to take the rose. I figure he's joking; who takes the flower from a restaurant table. I laugh and say no. He insists. After a couple of moments of this I realize there are no roses on any other tables. I take the vase and flower, but my comfort level has dropped.

At least it's a yellow rose, I think. That's the rose for friendship. *Maybe* that's how he means it. (It's amazing what we tell ourselves, isn't it?)

I've already agreed to stop at his apartment. He's ordering some new furniture, and has told me he wants a second opinion on how it will look. On our way to his apartment, I let him know that I can't stay late; I still have work to catch up on tonight.

He gives me a brief tour of his apartment. It's very nice. Mine feels squalid in comparison. He said he wanted honest opinions, so I give him mine. He wants to show off his stereo system -- something he had talked passionately about at dinner. So he puts on a CD. We discuss a range of topics from flamenco to the multiverse. He seems surprised that I can follow the conversation, that I have heard of the multiverse or the golden ratio. I'm surprised that he's used to people who can't follow that discussion, who don't know of these things. I remind him I have to work. We talk a bit more.

And he gives me a box of truffles. Okay, now I can't pretend to myself that he doesn't mean this as a date. Once again, my comfort level drops.

And as we're leaving for him to take me home, he steals a kiss. Now, regardless of what happens later, he can't pretend that it's not meant as a date.

Comfort level: sub-basement.

On the drive home he asks if I'm involved with anyone.

"Sort of."

"'Sort of,' like it's ending?"

"'Sort of,' in that we're trying to figure out where we're going."

"Then I apologize for stealing that kiss."

Though I half want to rail at him for turning what could have been a friendly, getting-to-know-you dinner into an uncomfortable evening, I tell him it's okay.

"Then can I steal another?"

Why couldn't he have been that up front in the first place? Yes, at this point the audacity or courage or whatever you want to call it was inappropriate, but it would have been absolutely appropriate for him to squirrel his courage when he invited me to dinner instead of hiding behind "Thank you." It wouldn't have taken five minutes to tell me what he actually had in mind. And it would have saved us both discomfort and embarrassment.

How can you make your wishes clear in just five minutes?

Song of the Exiled

Sometimes all that's necessary to lift your spirits is a song.

Whine, whine, whine. Whaaah. The sounds of self-pity.

Last August I started a new job in a new state. It was a term position--366 days, but, I was told, would most likely be extended. The project manager and office manager both guessed the job would last about 2-1/2 years. I packed up my stuff and moved from Colorado, where I had friends and family, to North Dakota, where I knew no one. Now, nearly eleven-months later, I'm having to prepare for another move; this time I don't know where I'm going.

It's one of those unfortunate circumstances--funding cuts for the project I was hired to work on. All four of us who were hired for this project were told that, as of October 1, we're out of jobs. They were good enough to let us know as soon as they knew, which means I've sent out 30 resumes in the last six weeks. So far, no bites. The people at my office have been nice, letting me know that they're sorry to see me go, telling me things like, "I'm sure they'll come up with funding at the last minute. They always do." But I can't count on that, so I keep looking.

It's strange, though. As friendly as the people in my agency are, they aren't. I've been here for 10-1/2 months, and, though I've invited people to do things, I've only done non-work things with anyone from my agency three times. Once was at Thanksgiving, and that was with the other woman on my project who started here one week before I did. The other two times were over the July 4th weekend--and I pretty-much invited myself along (once to watch the parade, once to watch the fireworks). In fact, the only good friend I made since I moved here moved back to Colorado more than a month ago.

Can you tell I've been feeling sorry for myself? I know, I know. Play a sad song on the violin for me.

I really do know that my life is not bad. I have friends, they just live in other states. I have a job, and I will find another one before this one ends. I like the people in my office and they seem to like me. Logically I know all that. But, still, sometimes those pity-full emotions creep up and get the better of me.

Because of those pity-full feelings, work this week (and, yes, I know it's only Tuesday) has been rough. I completed a fraction of what I felt I should complete. My mind kept wandering. I was easily distracted. I was exhausted.

This morning, while trying to figure out how to get back on track, I was reminded of the power of music. At lunch I ran home for my MP3 player. When I got back to work, I plugged in the earphones and put it on play. For an entire song, I just listened. I didn't work. I didn't think about anything but the music. And at the end of the song, I felt lighter, better, freer. I had the music on all afternoon, and I got a lot more work done than I had yesterday or this morning.

According to A Candle In the Dark, the average modern American song is approximately 4 minutes long. This means that, in just five minutes you can completely give yourself over to a song, and pull yourself back after it ends while still breathing in the music, lyrics, and feelings of the piece.

What song can lift your mood in just five minutes?