Have you ever been in line while running what was supposed to be a quick errand, like at the post office, bank or supermarket, when you find yourself stuck behind some schlub talking the ear off of the employee you’re waiting to see? Maybe they’ve opened up their wallet to show off some family photos, or perhaps they’re making an excessive amount of idling small talk. These are the people who are entirely too excited to hear about a new store credit card, and the folks who argue about an expired coupon (from 1997) until a manager acquiesces. Meanwhile, the normal folks who want to get on with their lives are stuck staring daggers into Captain Oblivious and hoping that another lane will open up.
I was in danger of becoming one of those people. And I don’t mean the innocent bystanders in line.
A big part of being an active communicator is finding a receptive audience. You need to seek out those who value your input and attention, or you’ll be spitting into the wind with a long string of unanswered emails, unreturned phone calls, and IMs that end before the first greeting is ever typed. Those of us without an audience will hold hostage those who cannot escape communication: people who are working. After all, they can’t turn away a (seemingly) friendly customer, right?
Unfortunately, this leads to many people, friends and family included, tuning the speaker out, sometimes ceasing communications entirely. The thought of the most meaningful talk I would have all week being with the barista at Starbucks freaked me out. If my over-communicating was pushing my friends away to the point of radio silence, I would have to change things. I had to become reactive.
In the classic Seinfeld episode, “The Opposite,” George Costanza decides that after a life of bad decisions, he will go against his natural instincts and urges, doing, thinking and saying the opposite things. “If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right,” Jerry muses. To George’s surprise, this works.
In order to avoid a fate of awkward one-way conversations with uncomfortable retail workers, I must become George Costanza. Conversationally and communications-wise, at least.
After much soul searching and a couple of beers, I compiled a list of habits that I had picked up with seemingly obvious ties to one-way (re: bad) communication. This list includes:
- Calling and texting responses almost immediately - I kvetched about this a while back, and have been doing the same with increased frequency.
- Trying to get the last word in – Apparently, I have something of a compulsion to say/type the last thing at the end of a conversation, OR ELSE.
- Calling and leaving a message which usually amounts to, “Call me back,” but saying it in a roundabout way. Not only does it waste time, but it could be a lot more fun.
- Telling a story instead of giving a straight answer. IE: “Is it clear to make a right turn?” “Well, the closest car is about three blocks back, so it’s probably safe if we go now.” (The answer should be “Yes.”)
- Calling at inconvenient times. Not that I can always tell when a time would be inconvenient, but my precision is getting to be telemarketer-like when it comes to inopportune moments.
All of this might seem like small potatoes, but think about how you present yourself in the manner in which you communicate. Do you prefer nonverbal, written communication, even with the ever-looming threat of Poe’s Law fighting your every word? Are you one who enjoys talking on the phone, enjoying a verbal and tonal connection while still maintaining visual privacy? Or are you a fan of in-person chats, where you have more transparency between communicators? If you fail at any of these forms of communication, you risk alienating those who prefer using them.
The most effective way to cover for this? Ignorance and laziness.
There’s an old business strategy that underscores the importance of timing: the person who comes in late is important because others had to wait for them. Taking slow, deliberate pauses while speaking adds weight to one’s words, as others have more time to parse over them. So it stands to reason that responding too quickly demonstrates both a lack of importance and social power.
Brevity is another source of positivity. Both the success of Twitter and an increased rate of information consumption have led to a renaissance for quick, effective messages. Rather than droning on or over-sharing details, it’s much simpler to keep things short and let the audience fill things in. As one of my English teachers once said, “Show, don’t tell.” An increased time spent talking and giving details where they are unnecessary only devalues the speaker and the message.
I noticed an immediate shift in my interactions with others after taking inverting my usual communication patterns. Friends were now calling me with increased regularity, and my response rate on everything from Facebook messages to work emails increased exponentially. The strategy of “The Opposite” freed me from what could have become a lifetime of angry glares from other shoppers at Walgreen’s. If only some of my fellow shoppers could come to the same conclusion…





Your calendar has been lying to you.
Your brain is working against you this very instant, crushing your hopes and dreams as quickly as you might think them up, pushing down your fantasies, and destroying an infinite number of possibilities for your future. It’s building walls that you will never be able to overcome, pushing you down a more limited life path, keeping you from discovering untold adventures and limiting your own beliefs. Every one of our minds has been designed, over centuries of evolution, to prevent us from being our fullest, best, truest selves. No one is exempt, and no one is safe. But for those of us who realize these limitations, there is hope.




