Not snacks the food products, but "Snacks" the Soldier, so named because of the cartons of food products he brought into the office, and also because of his girth (which really isn't as bad as we make it out). He's quite a charming fellow, and cheerfully accepts the abuse of the rest of the occupants of my (former) office. I was always nice to him, for two reasons: (1) it's the right thing, and (2) if he ever snapped and went postal, he'd remember my kindness and pass me by on his killing spree. His boss, CPT Leg-arms, has him on a strict diet and exercise regimen, with the goal of turning him into a specimen right out of a Kurt Russell movie. He's a nice fellow, and he works hard, but I'd say that his single biggest problem is that he's a terrible storyteller.
He has a number of anecdotes to relate, no matter what the topic of conversation. As I am a bit of a raconteur myself, I don't begrudge this as such. The poor man has no talent at spinning a yarn, and this largely provides occasion for further abuse by my (former) colleagues. The crux of his problem is that he provides information which is factually accurate, but irrelevant to the story itself. As one (former) colleague stated, "he tells stories in 3-D." He can't just tell us that something happened, but provides turn-by-turn driving directions to the location where it happened. Don't care, don't care. This is ultimately counter-productive, because often people pay more attention to you the less you say. The surfeit of details then spawns a collateral problem, which is that his stories take far too long. Get to the point, then stop talking! We'll ask follow-up questions in the unlikely event that we really care. Conversations are about the benefit of the other parties, and not just waiting for your turn to monologue. True conversation is not selfish, but is an act of charity. If that's not how your audience perceives it, you're doing something wrong.
When telling a story, the storyteller himself must know where it's going, even if the listener doesn't. Otherwise, how will we get there? If I had time, I'd discuss reader expectation theory, and the differences among the implied audience versus the actual audience versus the intended audience, but that's a dissertation for another day.
I recommend that we take a page from the NBA's book, and instead of a shot clock, have a "Snacks clock." We'll hit the start button when he begins telling a story, and he has 24 seconds to either get to the denoument, or stop talking. Either way, we win.
28 August 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment