The Lobby

Over the last few weeks I have been arranging quite a few meetings, most of which take place at some corporate office building. This invariably creates the situation I’m facing today in which I walk into an office, tell the receptionist who I am, and am then told that So-and-So will be out shortly and to have a seat. Thus begins the uncomfortable office lobby sit.

By your late twenties you have reached an age where interviews, sales calls, etc. no longer make you all that nervous, but there is still that unique awkwardness of sitting in the lobby. First of all, your appearance alone indicates that you are out of place since you are very often the only person in a suit. Nowadays most of the other employees walk in and out in slacks and a button-down. Further, the simple fact that they don’t know you signals to them that you are an outsider, but the suit and tie in 100-degree weather assures them that you are most likely there to ask for something. This brings up the second point: you are an asker. Regardless of whether this is your oldest customer, you have a proposal that can make them rich, or your uncle owns the company and you are after an internship, you are still the asker. Otherwise, this would all take place at your office.

Based upon the looks you get, you feel like a mix between a zoo animal and a hospital patient. Everyone has seen you or something just like you before, so you are nothing new. However, the underlying theme of the collective stares is pity. Because for those brief few seconds, regardless of their job, they are glad that they are not awkwardly sitting there like you preparing to schmooze and ask. In these situations, I find myself going through a few different exercises in an attempt to blend in and to feel a little less out of place. I imagine most people do some variation of the same things.

The Read:

Office lobbies offer a slough of various reading material, yet most of it would rarely ever be purchased by an individual. It is my guess that some publications operate solely by selling corporate subscriptions. Businesses never have “Sports Illustrated” or “Esquire” displayed in the lobby. Typically it’s a melody of “Business Week”, “The Economist” and some local shit rag. The magazines are laid out, usually next to some plaque recognizing company achievement or sponsorship of a little league team, as though to say, “Our employees are smart and this is what we read”. In actuality, the only purpose these magazines serve is to provide the men something to grab and stare at while they escape to the shitter. With that thought in mind, I usually reach for the latest addition of said local shit rag, estimating that it has the lowest level of contamination.

For some reason I feel that flipping through a magazine will throw everyone off my scent. As though every passer by will say to themselves, “He appears to be an asker, yet he is leisurely looking at a magazine. No one with that poise and relaxed posture could possibly be a run-of-the-mill asker. He must be waiting on his lunch partner”.

The Receptionist Chat:

Sometimes in lieu of The Read, I go with The Receptionist Chat. This exercise is exactly what it sounds like and often involves some form of, “So, how long have you guys been at this office?” or “Is it hot enough for you today?” I imagine the subconscious rationale for this behavior is that if you are friendly with the receptionist, the other office workers may hear you in the act or hear about it later and think of you as a genuinely nice person; or it is at least good warm-up bullshitting.

The problem is that this reasoning fails on both levels. First off, no one cares nor has cared what the receptionist has had to say in the last 17 years, including her now former husband. She is so anxious that someone is asking for her input that she runs her mouth continually, eliminating your chance to at least participate in a warm up conversation. Also, most of the people you are talking to can’t remember her name two days out of the week. You may as well include the coat rack in the conversation because the receptionist’s thoughts about what kind of a person you are rank just below the opinion’s of the office furniture.

The Look Busy:

This is probably the most widely used and easily accessible of these three methods. The Look Busy is simple in that all you have to do is look busy. Since most of us practice this skill 40 hours a week, it is extremely easy to pull off. Any Blackberry, Trio, or calendar/schedule will do. I aimlessly push buttons, review notes and retrace over words that are already written down on today’s to-do list. This tells all passers by that “I am an extremely busy person and I cannot afford to waste these precious minutes just sitting here.”

My problem is that I just have a normal cell phone. I flip it open, look at the screen and nod my approval that it appears to be just as I left it. Sometimes I will reread old text messages just for added effect. I am also guilty of checking my date book. I flip it open, see the meeting I am currently at as my only commitment, and nod with approval. Yep, right on schedule.

An hour or so later, these meetings typically end with an “Alright, great. I will follow up with you next week”. On this particular occasion, I hear the receptionist expressing her thoughts about today’s weather forecast as I approach the lobby. Once I turn the corner I see a twenty-something guy sitting in the awkwardly small leather chair in the lobby, nodding kindly as the old bag babbles along. When I glance at the coffee table I notice one of the two issues of the economist is missing and I am proud of my previous decision to only handle the local rag. While pushing the door open, I stare at twenty-something guy like a panda behind plexi-glass and think to myself, “Man, he looks awkward”.