How good are you at remembering names?
When my dad was alive he was phenomenal at it. A salesman by training, I'd see him work the biggest room as if he knew each person in the room.
Actually, he did.
I never understood how he did it, because frankly it didn't pass on to me. I barely remember what I had for breakfast.
No matter, a couple of nights ago I met a guy who'd give old dad a run for his money. I'm at this function, and this guy's not only working the room — he owns it.
Greets everyone by their first name, but here's the kicker: He even remembers their spouses and, in at least two greetings I caught, their kids!
No notes. No tapes. No hesitations. He looked me in the eye, the couple next to me in the eye, the folks mingling around me in the eye: one-by-one — everyone.
A fund-raiser of sorts, he was working it.
Now, to be fair, a lot of folks at this function were fellow board members, but most — by far most — were not. They were visitors, or invited guests, like me. They were the ones — we were the ones — he sought out. And once he met you, he didn't forget you.
For the minute or two he was with you, he was only with you — just you.
I later found out he was one of the most successful fund-raisers in Manhattan. Now, if only I could remember his name!
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