Networking: Party Animals and Dinner Party Darlings

A recent post called “Networking 101” over at Brazen Careerist yielded this comment by Scott M.:

I’m going to play devil’s advocate and throw a monkey wrench in this networking stuff.

I don’t really like people.

I’m not rude or anything. People describe me as a nice guy. But my ideal job would where I can sit in front of a computer and work for 8 hours a day without having to see anyone or talk to any one (except via email, and ny phone if I absolutely HAVE to). People are… messy. Confusing. And quite frankly, it takes an exhausting amount of effort just to deal with them. I use up all my energy just managing my relationships with my wife, kid, mom and sister. I really don’t have any left to deal with networking relationships.

Is there ANY way that guys like me can network without being totally fake?

Seeing as I can sort of relate to Scott’s sentiments I wanted to point out that there are two different types of networkers.  I would credit my friend with this dichotomy, but she doesn’t have any type of site or profile to link to.

Some people can get high off of constantly brushing shoulders with new people/potential contacts; those are the people that read books like Never Eat Alone and can turn their every interaction into a schmooze fest.  I liken these individuals to the Party Animal.  The PA gets buzzed off of the potential in room full of strangers.  They’re charming, charismatic, and EVERYONE knows their name.  It doesn’t matter if there are 50 or 500 people at the event in question, the PA is going to exchange cards and handshakes with as many of them as possible.   At the end of the night, the PA has a tower of business cards and a lot of secondary meetups to schedule.

photo by monstershaq2000

On the other hand, you have the Dinner Party Darling. Dinner Party Darlings get exhausted just thinking about going to a networking event featuring 1200 strangers looking for a leg up on the competition.  They’ll seek out someone they know at such parties and mostly mix and mingle with a small group of people (unless he or she had a few networking targets in mind).  With a handful of cards at the end of the night, the DPD is asleep before hitting the pillow.  Instead, DPDs are at their best in small group settings.  One on one coffees and small dinner parties, DPDs are relaxed and conversant, maximizing her opportunity for connection.

photo by jemsweb

While the PA might have more names and numbers in her Blackberry, the DPD is more apt to have established the foundation of a new relationship in that first meet.   Neither is better; they’re just different.  If you accept there’s balance in the world, it makes sense that if some people get their energy in crowded social scenes, others find theirs sapped.

I know a woman, we’ll call her B, via a the non-profit we volunteer with.  She falls into the PA category. Every time she returns from a conference or networking event, she adds 30-60 new contacts to her LinkedIn account.  Close to 600 people follow her twitters; LinkedIn has stopped counting her connections.  She invited me to a party last month in Bel Air, and everyone I met knew B.

Personally, I self-identify as a DPD.  I’ve had tickets to coveted networking events and just couldn’t make it through the door — the prospect of having to be “on” like a Broadway marquee is not an experience I seek out.  I’m the chick you have coffee with twice a year to catch up, or who you join for brunch with 6 other similarly-minded people to swap tales, as well as current needs.   My new LinkedIn contacts come in trickles.  One or two here, five or six there.   A friend recently commented on my ability to track the interests of just about everyone I interact with; it’s a requisite skill  if you embrace the Golden Rule of Networking.

She may have a larger superficial pool of contacts, but there’s a much more reliable core to that group that she returns to again and again.  I prefer to tend to the key people, knowing I’ll meet new parties on an as needed basis.

We both have entirely different approaches, but each of has a pool of people with which we regularly interact.  Last December we got introduced to a group by a mutual friend who swears we’re the two best networkers she knows.   And we couldn’t be more like night and day.

So my advice to Scott is to tend the garden, rather than focus on the entire farm.  It’s a scientific fact that any two objects have more in common than different.   You’re married, so you found worthwhile points of connection with at least one other human being that didn’t have to know you.

Start with the useful people at work — the ones who can opt to make your life harder if you give them any inkling of a reason.  Be friendly; make small talk.  Ask about their weekend. Then reach out to the well connected colleagues.

Your success at building your network ultimately comes down to what you have to offer the world.  Don’t  be a good time Charlie. Be useful.

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