Remember what John Henry said about the hog? "You got to friend him first. Then he friend you back." It's as easy as that.
The secret of popularity is to let people know that you like them.
Find something to like about a person and say so. There is always something about a person you can approve of- if the devil showed up you could at least compliment him on his industry.
I am not suggesting that you be insincere; I do suggest that you avoid being reticent. If you like something, say so.
You are standing beside Mr. Brown at a club dance. Mrs. Brown is on the floor. You say, "My, but Mrs. Brown dances beautifully, doesn't she? Nobody would think she was the mother of three kids."
It will please him without making him jealous; it's a tribute to his good taste. Ask him if he's got any new pictures of the kids. He has, he hauls out his wallet.
If you can't find something pleasant to say about pictures of kids I can't help you. But you can. At the very least you can note that one of them looks like his old man. There is always some sincere small remark you can make which is pleasant for him to hear. You don't have to lay it on with a shovel. Don't gush. Just be on the alert to say the nice things that occur to you and keep your mouth shut when a nasty crack seems opportune.
You can even compliment women on their hats. All right, all right, I know that is painfully dose to outright dishonesty if you look at it from the stand point of scientific truth, but we are not now in a physics laboratory - we meet on a social occasion; the rules are more flexible.
When you compliment a woman on her new hat, you are not necessarily making an esthetic endorsement; you are taking notice of the fact that she has made an effort to make herself attractive, for her husband, for you, and for others. It matters not that the thing on her head looks like a battered bird cage. You are praising in her a commendable social effort.
So, when you see a woman in a hat you don't recall having seen before, remark on it. Say, "I like your new hat," or, if you can't carry that off with a straight face, say "I see you have another new hat!" in an enthusiastic tone of voice. The word "another" implies that she is the sort of stylish female who has a new hat every week; the tone of voice implies that it is always a pleasant event for her friends, nevertheless.
If she says, "Why, this old thing is two years old!" you need only answer,
"It looks like a new hat to me. It reminds me of one I saw in Life magazine last week." And it does, too. After all, there is a limit to the hideous shapes which can be devised using only three dimensions.
If she persists, "You saw me in this hat last week," then you can answer, "I don't remember seeing it. I must have been looking at your face," thereby winning trick, game, and rubber.
(If you are sure of your ground, very sure, you can say "legs" or "ankles," instead of "face." Eut keepyour hands off the women. Don't mix your love life with your political work. Many politicians have - and it frequently lands them in retirement. Emulate the troubadour who sang the praises of his fair lady but never laid a finger on her.)
When a man deals with a man it is not necessary to compliment him on his clothes, but if you feel like it, go right ahead. They like it, too. But the easiest approach is to ask him about his business, then listen attentively. You surely will learn something - and you will impress him as a man of intelligence, well worth knowing.
I will not venture to tell women how to flatter men. The woman who does not know how to flatter a man and make him believe it is already embalmed.
There are many opportunities for legitimate praise in the course of a dub's activities. Be liberal with such remarks as, "That was a fine suggestion. Will someone put it in the form of a motion?" or, "Good speech you made tonight, Charlie. You certainly told them," and, "Mrs. Macintosh contributed the cake you see over by the coffee cups. Homemade."
Possibly the most important thing you can do to make yourself liked, aside from the elementary necessity of speaking Co people and telling them you are glad to see them, is to get their names right. A name may be an arbitrary symbol, but it does not feel that way to its owner.
I've heard many people say that they could never be in politics because they can't remember names. But you can - look, compadres, you know about 50,000 English words, or more, all of them arbitrary symbols; you have memorized hundreds of mathematical relationships in order to get through eighth grade; you know street names and land marks without limit-is it impossible for you to associate a name with a human face?
his possible and here is how it is done - here is how I do it and I have a memory like a pocket with a hole in it; I forget my own wedding anniversary.
When you are introduced, look the man in the eye and repeat his name and ask, "Is that the way you pronounce it, Mr. Lovell?"
He will either correct you, or agree. Then spell it and let him correct you. Respell it and pronounce it. (All this time you are looking at his face and listening to his voice.)
If possible, add, "I knew some people named Lovell in Grinell, Iowa. Cousins of yours, maybe?"
His remark will be something like, "Could be. There are Lovells all through the middle west. We're a big tribe."
You have pronounced his name four times and you have heard him pronounce it four times. You have spelled it All through this the busy little workmen who throw the switches in your brain are, with no real effort to yourself, soldering tight connections on a new memory circuit. The next time you see that face you will hear that voice, in your mind, saying "Lovell," and another one of your silent servants will be spelling the name for you.
By this means I can learn to pronounce, spell, and remember in connection with a face even Turkish, Japanese, or Polish names - and I have no talent for languages.
In the next few minutes, try to find an opportunity to say something, anything to Mr. Lovell, and tack his name on the remark - such as "Have any trouble finding a place to park, Mr. Lovell?" This puts a coat of varnish on your new memory track.
He will have forgotten your name and it will embarrass him slightly. He will then get the man aside who introduced you and whisper, "Who is that guy you just introduced me to? The one with the red nose?"
The answer will be, "Him? Oh, that's Jack Doorbell. He's the king pin around here. Nice guy." It will all be perfectly true and Mr. Lovell will remember your name and face. You're in, pal!
All of this takes surprisingly little time and no effort, and it is a sure way to solid political influence. A man does not mind you mispronouncing or misspelling his name when you are meeting him, when it is evident that you are trying to get it correctly. Your minor effort is flattering; it shows that you want him to be an individual to you, not a blank face in a crowd. But thereafter you must have his name right, if you are not to offend him. The spelling is quite as important as the pronunciation, as you will want to write it on club invitations and political mail advertising. It annoys a man named MacGregor to have it spelled "McGregor" ... the same goes for Stinkfish.
If you emulate these few illustrations in spirit if not in detail you will be well liked, even with B.O., halitosis, and tattle-tale grey. Your infirmities will be forgiven you. Let me repeat the rule: Feel friendly in your heart and watch for opportunities to let people know that you like them, admire them, or approve of them.
One cold and dismal morning a young man waited outside the gates of a great walled city. He was a country lad, come to seek his fortune, but at the last moment he was overcome by cold feet, homesickness, stage fright. He inquired of the gate keeper, "What sort of people live in the City?"