Yesterday a "colleague" stopped by my office unannounced. "Got a minute?" he asked with a big smile. "Sure," I answered, waving him into the empty chair across my desk. This colleague was a white man in his late 30s or early 40s, wearing khaki slacks with a button-down shirt and loafers. There were no classic identifiers---security card, nametag, etc.---in view. As this visitor sat down and started to talk, I began working the mental logic problem of the day: Who Is This Guy?
SIDE NOTE: In my career for a single corporation, I have worked in many different states, regions, and sub-organizations. I have had the opportunity to ‘network’ with thousands of people, who are now seeded coast to coast in various job positions. Many of these people met me under circumstances where they would be far more likely to recognize ME than I would THEM. As a further disadvantage, I routinely have one of the aforementioned identifiers clearly in view as I move through my day, making it simple for almost-strangers to assault me with "Hey, [insert name here], howya doing these days?" as I move from place to place.
Back to my unknown gentleman caller: as the conversation proceeded, I was able to exclude him from certain groups. He’s talking about this office, I thought, so he’s probably not from the Corporate Headquarters out of state. And he’s asking about my plans for the future, so he must know me more than just casually. I still had no clue, but using my long experience with general business-speak, I was able to easily conceal my confusion while keeping my end of the discussion up. OK, he mentioned working at XYZ Corporation in his past life, so that narrows it down to a smaller group of candidates. Nothing came into focus yet. Aha! He mentioned my husband by name, he doesn’t have glasses, he’s talking about something I saw on email yesterday for a certain business subgroup---he must be [insert name]!!! Just in time! He was pretty much done, so I closed with the always-appropriate "Thanks for coming by. I appreciate you thinking of me." And he was gone in a khaki blur.
Then I walked out of my office and asked the guy in the cubicle across the way, "Who the hell was I just talking to for the last 10 minutes?" It never hurts to get a second opinion.