The perfect introduction

I get nervous when I make phone calls. I’m told it’s a millennial thing, the sheer panic when seeing the dreaded voicemail notification pop up on my iPhone. Will I listen? Maybe. Will I ignore that the simple request for a call back as it sits in my inbox for eternity, remembering it only to feel momentarily anxious before I forget about it again? Also maybe. Honestly, almost certainly.

It’s something about an introduction that gets me. A first email to a professional is easier, more curated. I don’t have to worry about cheerfully telling the other participant in what was a normal conversation just moments ago to “have a nice gay!”, or to respond to them positively with “greaxcellent!” (A word I believe my brain invented to combine the separate words of great and excellent - a sign of not enough caffeine that morning, or said brain's brilliance. You decide.)

In emails, while autocorrect might occasionally smite me, for the most part its a welcome aid in contact. My nervousness around saying the wrong thing is mitigated by the ability to consider the words I use, to have fun with them. I kind of relish the email. Again, what else would you expect from a millennial.

So when clients express nervousness around initial introductions, I understand them. As if it’s not cruel enough that I demand they introduce themselves in email application, I then ask them to….. jump on a phone call gasp with me. Oftentimes I kick myself for being so insistent in this pre-meeting prerequisite. Every time I get off those calls, though, I thank myself for creating the process that I have tried, tested and confirmed to be the perfect introduction.

I thought it might be helpful to really clarify for prospective suitors here, the best way to begin our introduction when you email or fill out my contact form. What I do care about is what’s led you to this moment, what your passions are, what your goals are. Tell me about your experience or lack thereof in this world of professional companionship. Tell me about your travels and your country, the things that drive you forward. What I don’t care to know about is your tax bracket or your ethnicity. Now of course, some political discourse of taxation and the complexities of it all can be fascinating, but what I mean to say is that I am interested in the sort of person you are, and what you are looking for. Not to judge you preemptively.

Mutual nervousness is sexy. Those electric energies, somehow, pass through the phone lines and through the ether (5G conspiracy theorists might call this mind control, but I digress). It’s amazing how such a fleeting moment of human connection can be detected from even thousands of miles away. This is why introductions are so essential. How do we sense who the other person is? How do we know we are to feel at ease with them? How do we know we might get along? How do we know that they share the same sense of humour, that we are so intrigued by their voice we long to become acquainted with their body? It’s all part of the same process. From your email I get a sense, albeit vague, of who you might be. The phone call confirms our suspicions - that just maybe, we are completely and mutually excited to meet each other in person. And while email might be a comfort to me, the thrill and anticipation of a nerve wracking phone call is where the magic happens. Good things never come from comfort now, do they…