Not long ago, my wife Monica and I spent three days in Washington, D.C. A brief visit to the Portuguese Embassy was the reason for our trip, but we stayed on for a few days to enjoy the city.
We love Washington, D.C. It’s brimming with culture, fine dining, great hotels and that international vibe you find in a world-class capital city. But our visit had us there during the government shutdown and a cold spell, leading my wife to liken D.C. this visit to “a dead New York City.” Still, we had a great time, ate great food and did a bit of sightseeing.
On our second evening there we dined at The Plume, a Michelin Star restaurant and the only Forbes Five Star restaurant in D.C. If I may digress, I’d like to state that Monica and I dress for the occasion whenever we go out. We think it’s important. Now, anyone who’s ever donned a suit and cinched a tie
around their throat knows that gentlemen don’t dress that way because it’s supremely comfortable. It’s not. Pajamas are supremely comfortable. But suits are empowering and they show the wearer’s respect for the event he’s attending, the venue he’s visiting and, most importantly, the company he’s keeping. That evening I was anticipating an exquisite meal in an acclaimed restaurant with my ultra-fabulous wife. It was important that I dress accordingly. Toward that end, I chose a black suit, a contrasting light grey plaid double-vested waistcoat with shawl lapel, black tie (long, not bow) and white shirt with French cuffs, of course. Watch, pocket square, and cufflinks (a gift from my wife) – every accessory was thoughtfully selected and in place.
As expected, the food and service at The Plume were outstanding. An elegant fireside dinner and excellent conversation brought our busy day to a close. After dessert Monica chose to relax in our room, but I opted for a nightcap and some piano music before turning in.
We were staying at The Jefferson, conveniently located between Embassy Row and the White House. We were a pleasant fifteen-minute walk from the Embassy of Portugal, and just one floor up from The Plume, which sits in the hotel’s beautiful lobby. We were also one floor up from The Quill, which is perhaps the nicest hotel lounge in D.C. The food, service and ambience at The Quill are excellent.
I would absolutely recommend The Jefferson, The Plume, and The Quill to anyone visiting our nation’s capital.
As I walked into the lounge, it was clear I’d have trouble finding a seat. I passed through the room where the bar is located. Nothing available. I then moved through the adjoining space which is set up for dining. Every seat in the lounge was taken except two stools situated alongside the piano. Feeling quite conspicuous but having no alternative, I took my place quite literally at the piano. With my arm resting on the baby grand I sat waiting for the server, barely a meter from the pianist as he sang Cole Porter’s 1928 classic, Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall in Love.
As he segued into Hoagy Carmichael’s Stardust, the pianist, Peter, began chatting with me. He shared a few Carmichael stories in a way that made it seem he’d known the songwriter personally. He wasn’t talking to the audience. They were busy eating, drinking and chatting amongst themselves. He was talking to me – the guy seated awkwardly at his piano.
When it was time to take a break between sets, Peter stayed seated at the piano drinking his coffee and chatting with me. I actually said little. I listened and smiled a lot. He was an excellent conversationalist and made me feel quite comfortable, in spite of the seating arrangement.
Almost abruptly he said, “You look impeccable.” “Oh, thank you very much,” I responded, sincerely appreciating the unexpected compliment. Then he said with a smile, “You look like a … what’s the word? … a Maître d’hôtel.”
Hmm. Black suit, black tie, contrasting waistcoat…. He was right.
“The Maître d’ in the movie Pretty Woman,” he added, still smiling, before segueing effortlessly into a story about Robert Goulet.
From the moment I took my seat, Peter demonstrated a mastery of the one skill essential to success: the ability to connect with people and make them feel comfortable. I call it “connectability.”
Your level of success socially, romantically, professionally and financially will be determined in large measure by your ability to connect on a meaningful level with other people. We’re created to be social. Our lives are meant to intertwine. Whether your goal is to climb the corporate ladder, grow your own business, build a fortune or simply be somebody people want to be around, you need to be able to connect with others and make them feel good about connecting with you.
How do you do that? Start by being genuine, authentic. Authenticity breeds trust. Conversely, a lack of it breeds distrust.
People will pick up on it quickly if you’re being anything short of authentic. They’ll wonder what you’re hiding; what you’re really like. They’ll begin analyzing things you say and questioning your motives. They might still interact with you, but they’ll keep you at arm’s length. They might even write you off as insecure, as a poseur or narcissist.
Be yourself. Be like Peter; be willing to engage, instead of waiting for someone to engage you. You can be open, personable and affable without baring your soul. Need a little coaching in this area? Pick up or download a copy of Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People. Originally published in 1936, this classic is still relevant. Times may have changed, but human nature hasn’t. That’s why more than eighty years later this book is still a must read. Carnegie offers up timeless techniques and principles for interacting with people, making yourself likeable, winning others to your point of view, and leadership; in short, “the fine art of getting along with people in everyday business and social contacts.”
Master the art of connecting with others. The more connections you have, the better your chances of building wealth. In fact, the more connections you have, the better your chances of success in all areas
of life. I’m not talking about social media connections. I’m talking about real, genuine connections: connecting with people you’re willing to make time for and, equally important, who trust you enough to make time for you
Post Script…
The following evening, our last night in D.C., Monica and I dropped into The Quill for dinner. Peter arrived promptly at 9 pm. As he situated himself at the piano, he picked up effortlessly where our conversation ended the night before. We’ll definitely return to The Jefferson.
As I was gathering photos for this post, I found this article in the Washingtonian about Peter Robinson, D.C.’s Piano Man. https://www.washingtonian.com/2013/01/09/peter-robinson-dcs-piano-man/.
