I’ve discovered I hold a particular disdain for networking events. Typically, I enjoy speaking with people and would say I’m comfortable doing so.
However, there is something about the sterile and structured environment of networking events that shrivels my confidence.
As I cross the threshold into the designated area, the air becomes thick and stifling. My palms develop a slick sheen. I become awkward and unnatural. My brain-body connection seems to loosen.
At the last event I attended, I nearly left as soon as I arrived. The door was open, nobody had seen me enter. It would’ve been so easy to pop a U-turn and head for the hills. Instead, I forced myself to stay. “It only takes one conversation to change your life,” I said to myself.
Is there a better icebreaker than gathering the shattered remains of a custard cream from between a stranger’s legs?
So, I made my way to the drinks table and awkwardly leaned over a lady to reach for the teabags. For some reason that seemed like a sensible course of action, rather than speaking to her. Asking for the PG Tips would’ve been a nice icebreaker, but I decided a bit of awkward leaning was a better way to go. Funnily enough, she didn’t hang about.
Freshly armed with a brew and a biscuit I surveyed the landscape, looking for my next victim. I spotted a man grazing alone, away from the pack. Ideal. I began my approach, giving him a fair warning via eye contact.
Upon arrival, I realised I didn’t have a free hand to offer a handshake. A juggling act ensued, resulting in my half-eaten custard cream flying towards his feet. Is there a better icebreaker than gathering the shattered remains of a custard cream from between a stranger’s legs? I think not.
Fortunately, the conversation itself was interesting.
I darted for the exit at the earliest opportunity, leaving behind a wake of embarrassment
The next issue arose when the conversation reached its natural conclusion. Both of us knew it over, but neither of us knew how to move on. We stayed locked together in this awkward social embrace, rehashing the same ground. It was only when the evening’s presentation was about to begin that we managed to break away.
Suffice to say, I darted for the exit at the earliest opportunity, leaving behind a wake of embarrassment and, presumably, crumbs. As I charged towards the safety of my car, I swore to never put myself through such torment again.
In stark contrast to this experience, I recently attended Timeline’s conference, Adviser 3.0. More importantly, I attended the post-conference drinks.
I’m sure it won’t come as a shock to anyone, but this type of informal networking was a much more pleasant experience.
Well-oiled with some social lubricant, otherwise known as beer, I took the opportunity to speak with and quiz experienced advisers. I was pleased to discover that I’m not the only one with an aversion towards formal networking events.
I had feared I was destined to spend hours at these formal gatherings, hating life
To hear that some successful advisers avoid them like the plague was music to my ears. I had feared I was destined to spend hours at these formal gatherings, hating life, attempting to utilise them as a key source of business generation.
You may be thinking that the main takeaway from this article seems to be that networking is much better over a couple of drinks – and you wouldn’t be wrong. A bit of Dutch courage goes a long way. Many lasting friendships have been forged in the serene haze of a tipple.
But what’s ironic is I’ve drastically reduced my drinking over the last year or so, especially as I trained for my first marathon. I’ve embraced and now enjoy ‘low and no alcohol’ drinks.
Upon completing said marathon, I flipped over my medal and saw the quote, “great things never come from comfort zones”. So, with that in mind, I took the plunge and booked another networking event.
As a compromise to my previous oath, the event takes place in a pub.
Tom Redmayne is an associate financial planner. He can be found on Twitter @mantaromoney or on LinkedIn
