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Pause
Let’s talk about your next seatmate on a transcontinental fl ight.
“Whoa!” I can hear you shout all the way from here. “I don’t want a conversation
on an airplane!” (Introverts can be irrefutably loud when
harboring a strong opinion.)
And you wonder why you are underconnected.
I bet introverts account for 75 percent of the sales of those giant,
circa-1970s noise-canceling headphones. Th at’s right; introverts pop
them right over their ears to dissuade any hope of conversation from
fellow passengers.
Take off those headphones for a minute, I’m talking to you!
Let’s make a deal. You can ignore your seatmates for at least 90 percent
of the fl ight. I ask for only about 10 percent of your time. Doesn’t
that sound more than reasonable?
I fl y a lot. I am always fl ying to or from an event where I am expected
to talk. At times I am in a perpetual state of dipping into energy
reserves and feeling wiped out. I understand not wanting to talk. Yet I
have made some wonderful contacts on airplanes, pain-free.
My best airplane story unfolded when I was sitt ing there, safely
buckled in, reviewing speaker evaluations from a conference, happily
ignoring my fellow passengers. Th e feedback was glowing, along the
lines of “Devora is the best consultant I’ve ever encountered,” and “I
will only att end events Devora is running from this point forward.”
Suddenly my row mate interrupted my reverie (the nerve!), asking,
“Are you a consultant?” Clueless as ever, I replied, “How do you
know?!” He admitt ed peeking at my feedback forms, so I held up the
heap, saying, “Here, take ’em!” Turned out he was the newly minted VP
118 NETWORKING FOR PEOPLE WHO HATE NETWORKING