Ever wonder if you’re on the right path? Deep down you know, like we all do, but if you need extra convincing, try out my go-to tuner of convictions: The Bar Introduction Test.
The test runs like this; two people meet, exchange pleasantries, with one eventually asking the question, “So, what do you do?”. Throughout my twenties, the test’s setting was almost always the bar. Barstools, drinks, and people were rotating mirrors of reflection inside an important stretch of life. I took for granted how easy it was to meet people. There was ample opportunity to employ the Bar Introduction Test.
At 24 years old, I loved what I did. So, I loved talking about it. When someone started asking the question, I chomped at the bit. I even had an elevator pitch, something like, “I run a health program at a local middle and high school, like Teach for America, but health focused. It’s called HealthCorps. I run cooking classes, lead meditation, and coach soccer.” Girls liked the pitch. Call it passion, call it connection, call it whatever you like, I was passing the Bar Introduction Test with straight As.
A passing test occurs when you get excited while discussing what you do, and they ask a follow-up question. A passing test is dynamic and connecting. You’re so ready to share about your life, you often ask them first what they do, just to share your answer!
Fast forward three years into medical school. I’m now in my mid-to-later-twenties, still in the prime of my “going out” years and Bar Introduction Tests, just at swankier locations. More cocktail, less lunchbox, in OKC parlance.
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As we danced into that point of conversation where the person prepares the question, I filled with dread. When discussing medical school, it actually hurt. While I talked my own eyes glazed over. Girls weren’t about it. The only follow-up question people offered, one every medical student knows too well, was, “You figure out which specialty you’re going into yet?” The only reason I asked them what they did was to get the attention off me. A failed test is listless and lifeless. I failed the Bar Introduction Test for eight years.
Now in my mid-thirties, the Bar Introduction Test lives on at Trader Joe’s and the lineup of my neighborhood surf break. Last week, the question found me at a meditation group.
My wife and I were packing up our things, about to leave the building, when the leader of the group stopped us for introductions. She proffered the question my direction, and I replied, “Right now I’m refurbishing furniture, mainly desks.” A follow-up question lit the convo further. We passionately discussed the hue of Santa Barbara blue often seen around town. There was life. There was connection. I was excited to hear about her plans for the rest of January’s classes.
Walking home, I gazed up at the bright figure of Orion in the sky and smiled. Maybe it can be that simple; do something I like, do it well, make money doing it, and pay the bills. As soon as the clarity arrived, I was flooded by warranted anxiety regarding how we’ll pay student loans, get rent covered, save enough, etc.
But then I looked back up at Orion, took a deep breath, and reminded myself, “One passed Bar Introduction Test at a time.”
That HC elevator speech lol it was a great experience. I know I learned a lot about myself being a coordinator.
It’s easy to sell an elevator pitch when you believe it! Learned a ton!