2. Always Give The Right Answer

Several years ago I was attending a meeting at a hotel just outside Dulles airport in Northern Virginia, when I received an urgent message from my boss: I had to fly back home tonight to take care of something tomorrow (that naturally only I could take care of). OK, no problem. I went up to my room, called the travel agency to change my flight, packed up my things and was ready to roll. When I got to the lobby I saw it had been snowing heavily outside. Heavy snow in the DC/Northern Virginia area is fairly unusual, and it tends to grind all traffic to a dead halt. No problem, I thought, I'm just minutes from the airport via the hotel's shuttle bus. But when I checked out I had the foresight to ask the clerk if I could get my room back if for some reason I couldn't fly out. Well, she couldn't do that, and they anticipated being very full that night because of the snow, but she was happy to put me on a waiting list - I'd be first on the list. OK, no problem. Anticipating bad traffic on the 1-mile drive to the terminal, I got on the next shuttle bus and arrived well in time to make my flight. Luckily, the board showed my flight to be leaving on time in about an hour, so I had plenty of time to relax.

Well, half an hour before the scheduled flight time, the board still showed the flight as on-time, and the plane (the "equipment") was at the gate, but I was a bit curious as to why they were making no signs of getting ready to board. Same thing 20 minutes later. Same thing 20 minutes later. Same thing 20 more minutes later - by now we're already a half-hour behind scheduled departure time, the board hasn't been updated, and still no boarding activity, although the gate agents keep telling us we'll be boarding shortly. After another hour, they let us know the airport had been shut down and our flight was cancelled (duh). Now starts the mass exodus to the ticket counters and the exits.

Still no problem. I calmly walk over to the hotel courtesy phone, request a shuttle pick up, and wait just inside the door. In about 10 minutes the shuttle van pulls up and opens the door. I'm about to step on it when the driver puts his arm across the doorway and says "Wait a minute. Do you have a reservation?"  "Well, no" I said, "but..." but before I could explain I was first on the waiting list he said "We're booked," slammed the door and drove away. Hmm. OK. See ya. Bye.

Well, 15 minutes later the shuttle comes by again, door opens again, same driver puts his arm across the door and asks "Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes I do." So off we went to the hotel where I got a great night's sleep.

Hmm, there's got to be other situations where this advice fits the bill as well. I think most of us learn his technique as small children:

Mother, sternly, to only child: "Was it you that scribbled on the wall with this crayon?"

Child: "NO!"

Judge: "How do you plead?"

Defendant: "Not Guilty."

Side note: Dogs appear incapable of this technique, except as it pertains to food or going for walks or rides in the car.

Dog owner, sternly, to dog: "Did you do this?"

Dog: (giving owner extremely guilty look) "I"M SOOOOOO SORRY"

Or, dog owner to dog: "Hey boy, do you wanna...."

Dog: "YES! YES! PLEASE! YES! NOW!"

Men of dating age in particular seem to have an inherent knack for this technique: "I'll call you," "Of course I love you," and "You look ravishing."  Curiously, after they get married many embellish this with a slightly different technique I like to call always-give-as-many-good-answers-as-you-can-come-up-with: "Both of those dresses look great on you, honey." My theory is this skill is developed as a natural defense against questions that have no right answer....

Of course, men often revert to the technique of their canine cousins as well:

Woman: "Hey boy, do you wanna..."
Man: "YES! YES! PLEASE! YES! NOW!"

Others have a technique that involves asking which is the correct answer before giving an answer. This can be very effective, but it can also tend to insert a wee bit o' doubt in the questioner's mind:

Waiter: "Would you like some more coffee?"

Customer: "Is that regular or decaffeinated?"

Waiter: "Which one did you want?"

Customer: "Decaffeinated"

"Waiter: "Good, it's decaff" (She'll have time to think about that one tonight, as she's lying awake with the caffeine jitters).

Kidding aside, I'm not advocating bold-faced lies. That would be immoral. But it is common knowledge that if you absolutely have to lie, practice (especially if you have to lie over the phone - it's just so easy to pick out the lies without any false non-verbal clues). The correct term for a con-artist is a Confidence man. (Melville wrote a book entitled The Confidence Man. I had to read it in college. As punishment for reading this far, you should have to read it too.) Con artists are successful when they gain the confidence of their prey. Another way to put it is people will believe nearly anything as long as it is said with confidence. I once worked for a man who was an exceptionally strong personality. He was very well-respected in his field, had a deep, powerful voice, and really practiced before he ever delivered speeches or technical talks. He was also human, and occasionally got things wrong. One time I was in the audience when he was explaining something I happened to be an expert in (ah, the old days when I actually knew things). I, with everyone else, was listening with rapt attention to this powerful, confident speaker. He was so believable, so sure of himself, it was incredible. Unfortunately, I realized afterward that he had misspoken on a key technical point and gotten it exactly backward (you know, "therefore A equals B" instead of "therefore, A is anything but B"). It just astounded me that I believed him while he was saying it. I helped invent it, fer cryin' out loud. I knew damned well that A would never equal B. No way. No how. Not even close. But when he said it, I believed him.

So, how do you like my writing so far?     (Hint: you love it - or haven't I taught you anything here?)