Will you come on a trip with me? We’re going to visit a little bookseller in the centre of town. His name is Peter and he’s a lovely gent. Come on. Let’s go and sit for a while on his comfy sofa. Pack a flask of your favourite hot drink. We can sip tea as we read.
Sniff the air as we push open the heavy door. Do you smell it? Indescribable isn’t it? But it’s books. Beautiful books. And look, there’s Peter, chatting with wide-eyed customers. They’re transfixed by the story he’s telling them.
I was here a month ago. The air wasn’t so calm and quiet that day.
The heavy door was held open by one of those wooden door-stop things and a neon board outside shouted to passersby. “Come in. Everyone welcome. The more the better. Tell me about you!”
And in they came. Everyone.
I saw a man in a pinstripe suit. He walked up to the lovely Peter and gave him a flyer for his car hire business. Then he turned around and gave one to each of Peter’s customers.
There was a red head called Nicky. I know her name was Nicky because she had it blazoned across her teeny tiny fuchsia pink t-shirt. “Want me to paint your nails?” Nicky Nails asked me.
Before I could reply, she was gone. She repeated the same question to first one person, then another, then another. Always moving. Never stopping for a reply.
And who could forget Mr Teeth, the dentist? The irony was, his own gnashers were less than perfect. But this didn’t stop him handing out lollypops emblazoned with his logo to anyone who dared to find themselves within lollypop thrusting distance.
Eventually Peter decided that enough was enough.
He unceremoniously evicted all of his visitors and closed the door to his glorious establishment.
Until today.
You and I are his first customers. How did we get here? I brought you here remember? I’ve known Peter for a while now and I knew you’d get along famously.
These days, Peter doesn’t let just anyone in. Before people come through his door now, they must pass a test. He checks people out for their conversation and friendly banter. But you came with me, so you’re good.
So what do you think of our little journey? Think it’s all been a bit farcical? Nothing could happen like this in real life could it?
I’d urge you to think again.
Have you been on Twitter recently?
Maybe you’ve read all the frustrating tales of social proof and authority by numbers.
I made a decision today. I’m done with playing the numbers game. No longer is it cool (and therefore by extension profitable) to have 10,000 followers who do little more than shove flyers in your face or invite you to take a lolly pop.
Instead, I’m opting for conversation and engagement
Every morning I would wake up and check what my Twitter world had been doing in my absence. Specifically, I looked to see if I’d acquired any more magic numbers while I’d been sleeping.
I’d look, click and duly follow back.
Did I check to see how these new humans would add to my Twitter experience? If they came without a profile picture I might click through to see if anyone else was following them, but did I read what they were about? Nope. Do you?
I dare you to think again. Twitter is a wonderful place for meeting new people, sharing your stuff and having a great time. Does it matter if you’re only talking to 200 people? What if those 200 people so adored you, they’d tell the whole world and Auntie Pearl the next time you have something new to offer?
It’s time to think again dear friend
Starting today, find one person in your Twitter stream and reach out to them. Start talking to them about them. Find out what they love, what makes them smile, ask them what their favourite colour is.
Or if you really want to test your network, ask a question. If no one answers you know you’re in trouble and it’s time to try it my way.
Here’s to fabulous conversation and down with the ad blasting zombies
Who’s with me?