One of the best things about being in business is the opportunity to attend meetings at other places of business. For the most part, it ranks right up there with cleaning the cat litter, although I’m willing to make exceptions for those corporate hosts who serve large quantities of food.
Who wants to go to meetings? Almost anything that can be done at a meeting can be done over the phone, via email or on MySpace.com, for that matter.
Do U hav the 411? LOL? Rain funk upon us all.
Please. It makes as much sense as anything you say.
And I sense people realize I don’t want to go see them, because they overcompensate when I show up.
“Let me take your coat. Would you like coffee? Or water?”
“No, thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Did I stutter?”
Nothing demonstrates this principle more starkly than the welcome sign. At some companies, it’s a fairly mundane exercise.
“Skeevowivowitz Industries welcomes D.F. Krause.” Black magnet sign with white letters. Could just as well be directing people to my funeral, but there’s no video playing of my childhood.
Other companies, however, turn it into a fine art.
I’ve been welcomed on 60-inch plasma TV screens: “Bufus Consulting is pleased to host D.F. Krause at our World Headquarters today!”
I’ve been welcomed on homemade banners: “Today’s Special Gargantuan Corporation Guest: D.F. Krause.”
I’ve even been welcomed by a welcoming committee consisting of representatives of various departments. This was actually my favorite. The representative from the engineering division was very attractive. Her name was Alena. She wore a slit skirt (I was told to follow her) and some sort of satin-type blouse. It was very nice. There was some guy, too. I don’t remember anything about him.
The problem with all this, of course, is that it’s screwy enough when you have to be in someone else’s office, even if you can escape notice. Far worse is when they make you the center of attention the second you walk in. The process can and should be reasonably straightforward, if people will only let it be.
“I am D.F. Krause, and I’m here to see Mr. Farkus.”
“Mr. Farkus, D.F. Krause is here to see you. [Pause] Mr. Krause, you can have a seat.”
“Is it OK if I stand?”
“Sit down!”
See? At least the rules are clear.
I once worked with two guys named Stan and Dan. When they would go to meetings together, Stan would always say, “Stan and Dan are here.” Most of the time, the receptionists would say, “Oh! Stan and Dan!”
Stan would laugh boisterously at the pointing out of the rhyme. Dan would look for a place to hide. He was a man after my own heart.
I suppose my issue with all this is that I’m really not deserving of a big welcoming effort. I’m just a man, after all. A man of character, courage and depth, perhaps, but even so, merely a man. If cut, do I not bleed? If heartbroken, do I not cry?
And if forced to spend 90 minutes listening to you give me “background” when we could wrap this up in five minutes if you would just answer my questions, do I not fidget in my seat, glance at my watch and start thinking of ways to telepathically make my office call me with a bogus emergency?
I’m basically just some dufus. What’s the fuss in welcoming me? What do you think I’m going to do? Give your company its biggest contract ever?
I recently attended a meeting at which the host company put the name of my company, instead of my own name, on the welcome sign. That’s fine. Unfortunately, they used our name from two name-changes ago.
What’s the etiquette there? Do you just say, “Thanks for the sign, I really feel welcome,” or do you try to figure out where they got the old information? Clearly, the polite “thank you” is the safest path. Obviously, I did the opposite.
“Hmm. Nice sign. Who told you our name?”
“I dunno. The guy. Why?”
“Because that hasn’t been our name for a long time, and the reason I’m even here is because we no longer do the thing that’s in that name, and I told the guy we never use that name or do that thing.”
“Oh, my God. I am in so much trouble. Do you want me to change it?”
“Well, you know, it’s not right. I mean, do what you want.”
Do you have any idea how many little white letters they keep at that company? She spread them all across her work area, looking for the letters she could use to make up the part of the new name that got left off while she spelled the part of the old name that we don’t use anymore.
Then she paused abruptly.
“I should probably take the part you don’t like down before I do anything else, right?”
“Well, I don’t know how busy you are.” (Translation: Snap to it!)
All this could be so easily avoided. Some years back, I walked into the lobby of an accounting firm that had a welcome sign sitting just inside the doorway. You couldn’t miss it if you tried, and you couldn’t fail to feel welcome even if you were Saddam Hussein.
It read simply: “Yowza & Yowza Welcome…YOU.”
Now that’s hospitality.
