Learning to work the room is a key part of being a founder

I went recently to an event sponsored by Connect. Fabulous house, wonderful food, 30 companies trolling for dough, a raft of others nibbling and drinking. An introduction to the new CEO. It is the stuff of our ecosystem.

More than a decade ago, I wrote a book on the entrepreneur’s guide to the galaxy. Beside some stories, there were 202 rules. Don’t laugh. Subsequent to the publication, the rules have expanded to more than 700. As the poker pundits say, “Read ‘em and weep.”

Rule No. 2 was about networking. I have come to believe that this is an ever-increasingly important skill and that learning to work the room is a key part of being a founder or CEO.

Given the digital world we live in, the amount of personal human interaction each of us has tends to be diminished. We zoom, we email, we teleport whatever – but we don’t do a lot of one on one, face to face, standing with a glass of wine, trying to balance a potsticker that is dripping, and attempting to “make contact.”

I am not sure how to teach this skill. I just know it is important. It is the Fuller Brush salesman determination, it is the charm of the used car salesman, it is the compliment on the ugly tie he is wearing or the drop-dead dress she is wearing.

I have often thought that taking improvisation classes is good training for a CEO. My personal go-to image is of a guy in front of the strip club telling every person who walks by, “dancing girls, free drinks (that is never true, but they say it anyway), don’t be shy, step right up …”

When I was younger, I liked to go to the circus or the fair. Games of chance were always rigged, but you played anyway. The reason you got cornered or conned was because the guy behind the table was fantastically glib, with a patter practiced over years of carney chatter. You can’t turn away, you can’t say no.

Yes, it’s true, I love to work the room. But that is only half the battle. Once you engage someone, get their attention, and then have a moment to bring the substance, you need a different skill. Me, I am only the barker on the street. I am not the dancer inside. But my partner is.

If I can bring the person to meet my co-CEO, who actually knows what artificial intelligence really is and can explain what we do, I step aside. Whether it is AI or genetic diagnostics or robotics or whatever, first the hustle and then the nerd.

Maybe they can exist effectively in one person, but in my personal experience, not so often. The used car salesman on the lot usually doesn’t do the financing package and sell the undercoating.

My co-founder comes up to me the next day and confesses to me that he is a bit shy, that he is not good at grabbing someone’s sleeve, cold-calling the potential customer and giving them the pitch. But when I bring a new person over to him, he is absolutely brilliant in explaining what our little company does.

My job was to troll for dough, look for customers, be charming and not let the egg roll fall in my lap. His job was subject matter expertise. Think about this in your own company. Who runs business development. It is not the same person who is your technical engineer. Who does customer service and answers the same stupid question 30 times a day. (You have to plug it in first, sir.)

It comes down to know your role. As the founder, you have only one job and that is to put the right people in the right seats, on the right bus, going in the right direction. That does not necessarily mean also sitting behind the wheel. The back seat gives a really good view of your passengers.

At the soiree, I knew that I blew some smoke, and I also knew that only 20% of the people who took my card will ever call or return an email. You’ve got to remember, they are dancing and smiling, too. Same ballroom, just different music.

Rule No. 805: Leave ‘em laughing.

Senturia is a serial entrepreneur who invests in startups. Please email ideas to neil@askturing.ai.