I parked my car at the MAX station and showed Sheryl how to validate the ticket I gave her.
“That's it?” she said skeptically. She lives in deathly fear of mass transit.
The train came along in a few minutes, the Green line to Portland State. The train was packed with riders. We had to stand up all the way to downtown Portland, hanging on to bars and straps while the train swayed and clattered along the Gulch. We chatted nervously, thinking of what was to come.
We got off at Mill and walked a few short blocks to 200 SW Market. Hey, I know that black cube, the square squat building covered in black glass... I used to work in that building, about twelve years ago, when things weren't going so well. I was a part-time admin for a software start-up company. The job sucked, and to save money, I walked to work from my place in SE Portland, hiking across the Ross Island Bridge, an hour each way. Now there's a commute that will put hair on your chest. Hey, I got laid off from that job, too. Unlike the career college, though, the start-up (should I say, the close-down) actually gave me a little severance.
Sheryl and I went up the escalator. I was worried I wouldn't find the place, but it was just inside the front door, a largish meeting room set up with a huge square made of tables and chairs, with a large projector screen pulled down at the far end and a small coffee service set up to the left of the door. There wasn't a lot of room, except in the center of the table area. That area was big as a prom dance floor and just as empty. About 15 people were milling around along the walls, talking with each other in small groups. They were getting down to the serious business of networking.
“This is it,” I said to Sheryl. To myself, I added, Do or die. I led the way through the door.
A large bearded man wearing a name tag (Jim so-and-so) planted himself in my path. He held out his hand. I automatically put mine in his.
“Are you here for the networking meeting?”
I introduced myself and Sheryl.
“Do you have a business card?” he demanded.
I had some cheesy cards I made myself, the latest in a long line of tentative designs. I whipped one out and handed it to him. Sheryl looked chagrined; she didn't have a business card.
Jim put my card in a fishbowl and explained that there would be a drawing later. The winner would get five minutes to make his or her pitch to the crowd. I think Big Jim was expecting us to look excited and hopeful. Huh. Not a chance. More people were crowding in behind us. Sheryl and I looked at each other and edged past the crowd into an open space along the wall.
My first instinct was to look nowhere but at Sheryl. I quickly squelched it. Eye contact, that was my goal, even if I... I almost wrote barfed, but that is really too extreme a word. I would be more likely to leave than to barf. I do have some sense of social propriety.
I looked around. Bam. Eye contact! A small man wearing big dark-rimmed glasses took the hint and gamely approached us and introduced himself. Steven, an industrial engineer, looking for employment. I got his card and stared at it blankly. Then I gave him one of mine.
Some seats had been staked out with purses and briefcases. Sheryl and I moved along toward the front of the room. We sat down in a row, the engineer, me, and then Sheryl. We found out that seating is everything. The guy at the head of the room welcomed us and then pointed our way. Time to talk! Poor old Sheryl was called upon to introduce herself and explain what she was all about—in no more than 30 seconds. She valiantly stood up and told the room her tale of woe: 20 years in education, laid off, looking for work.
Then it was my turn. I spewed something about my new businesses, making it up as I went, stammered a little, but apparently managed to sound more or less coherent. I know this because Sheryl told me so later. I was having an out of body experience, so I wasn't actually there during those 30 seconds.
But once it was over we got to watch the networking pros do their thing, and some of them were very good. There's a formula to it, we discovered: state your name and business, speak your tagline (enthusiastically), explain what you do and who you do it for, list the benefits, state what you want, and close by repeating your name and company name. Bam! And be ready with a stack of business cards when everyone rushes over to talk to you after the introductions are done.
And that was the gist of the event. A large table of 30 people introducing themselves, one after the other (somewhat tediously at times), followed by a little frenetic speed networking, and then the event was over. Some of us lingered. The employed people went to work. I felt a little like a trick-or-treater with a bag full of candy. My haul was business cards: I got seven, plus one for the East Portland Chamber of Commerce, who apparently have twice-monthly networking events at the crack of dawn, and they are open to the public (thanks, Big Jim).
We found our way back to the train station, waited for the next Green Line, and retraced our route back to the parking lot where my car awaited. I tool Sheryl home. I thanked her profusely for being my companion. She went off to take a walk. I went home to bed.
And that is the story of my networking adventure.
I had a victory moment, one shining glory moment, when it all came together, when I really understood the power of connection. A woman who owns a coaching business came over to me after the introductions and asked me about my business. We started talking about marketing research, and it became clear to me that she thought it was too hard and horrible to do herself. I explained what I could teach her in a one-hour webinar. She started to light up as I described the problems I could solve for her, how it's not that hard, and she said.... where can I sign up for your webinar?
I had to tell her the webinars were still in development. She turned away, clearly disappointed. But I was triumphant. I had one on the hook! I had her hooked, just for a moment. Then I had to let her go, but how cool is that? I almost sold her. And all it took was telling her how my product will help her solve a problem. After I woke up from my nap I sent her a LinkedIn invitation. Maybe I'll get her signed up yet.
