Not crazy about parties.
At a recent cocktail party (they still call them that, right?) Nancy and I experienced the same phenomenon we’ve experienced at pretty much every single party in the past few years: people are totally inept at having a conversation.
What typically happens is this: we meet someone new and ask them a question about their lives. Where they were born, how they met their spouse, what their occupation is, etc. The person answers. And then the conversation stops. Completely. Unless, that is, we ask another question. Then another. And then ANOTHER, until finally we can’t stand it any longer!
Now Nancy is much better at it than I, but at the end of the evening we both feel pretty much like Larry King. I can’t tell you how many times — well, I can: maybe EVERY TIME — I’ve left a party knowing everything about folks I’ve met…while they know ZERO about me. No clue. Zippo.
Why? Because they didn’t ask one question. Didn’t even appear to know HOW to ask a question . Oh sure, they were good at answering questions, but either they had no interest in anyone but themselves (likely), or they had no idea how to have a conversation (equally likely).
In any event, that’s pretty much why I hate parties. I don’t have the energy to conduct all those interviews.