Room Reading 101

Here’s a scenario: You’re at a soiree, a pool party, actually, with everyone in high spirits, tossing down adult libations, all aglow in that magical end-of-the-day, golden hour light, the smell of barbecue permeating the air.  At some point, you, a bit buzzed and caught up in the moment, decide to steer the group’s conversation towards skinny dipping, opining how great it would be if only everyone felt free enough to doff their inhibitions and their duds and go for a swim, au naturel.  Amazingly, the squeamish posture and off-putting glances of your fellow revelers don’t register with you one lick.  And, yeah, you’ve obviously forgotten that this little shindig is a fundraiser.  Ya know, for the church.  And that you happen to be at Reverend MacKenzie’s digs, and that’s his wife, Sheila, fainting dead away onto the patio furniture over your last remarks, while your red-faced spouse makes a beeline for the car.  Nah, you’re cocksure you have the crowd with you as you kick off your shoes and start to unbutton, heading towards the diving board with all the confidence of the Pied Piper himself… Oops.

A better scenario: You’re attending the college reunion of your spouse (yeah, the one who fled the party in the midst of your “let’s all get naked!” rant) and don’t know anyone else there.  This time, instead of downing a couple of potent cocktails to break the ice, you decide to keep it cool and nurse a light beer.  You’re in full wallflower mode, all handshakes and polite smiles, eyeing the room intently, picking up cues all around you.  When people inquire about your career or interests, you’re self-deprecating in an “aw, shucks” kind of way, quick to compliment them on their fashion sense, their articulate telling of a story, and their uncanny ability to look younger than their years.  Throughout the evening, you’re there for your better half when needed, off and mingling when not.  On the car ride home, you relate amusing snippets you overheard, all the while making sure to remind your significant other that they were the hit of the party.  This totally scores you points (maybe even helps diffuse your earlier pool party blunder).  Hell, you might even get lucky tonight.

So, there you have it, the right and the wrong way to read a room.  Some people say it’s an art, others claim it’s a skill that can be honed with constant practice.  Either way, get it wrong, and it can leave enough scar tissue to make Vincent van Gogh jealous.  Using the word “read” in a figurative sense, meaning dealing with a person’s thoughts or feelings, has been around since the sixteenth century, while the actual phrase “read the room” first appeared in Gilbert Parker’s novel, “The Trail of the Sword” in 1896.  Back then, it was taken more literally as in casing a place for a potential robbery.  It really wasn’t until 1975 when the modern-day definition, “to understand the general mood or atmosphere in a social situation or gathering”, was first seen in an article in the Oakland Post.  And of course, it didn’t take long after that before sales and marketing professionals latched onto the phrase, giving the American public the opportunity to read their book about reading the room for just $29.95, along with getting the chance to be part of the room they’ll actually be reading in their upcoming seminar for the same cost as a typical monthly car payment.

Personally, I don’t think room reading warrants a book or a seminar.  It’s pretty much just common sense: enter low-key, keep your eyes and ears peeled, and then gently ease your way into the conversation.  And, a bit later on, when you’re midway through that little anecdote about the time you accidentally flipped off that state trooper for riding your bumper on the freeway (yeah, the finger was no accident but not realizing it was a cop sure was) and you get to the part where backup units were called in and nobody’s laughing?... yeah, it’s time to beat a hasty retreat and abandon ship (what, you’ve never mixed metaphors before?).

Truth be told, I’m a bit jealous.  After all, in writing a blog, I can only imagine the room, never once getting an opportunity to observe or listen.  Hell, you could be cutting your toenails right now or partially nodding off, and I wouldn’t have a clue.  Or maybe you’re hawkishly eyeing every word, looking for misspellings or grammatical errors.  Or, better still, mixed metaphors… Fine, be that way.  Obviously, it’s time for me to cut bait and get out of Dodge (yeah, that one was for you).