A Lesson from My Worst Public Speaking Experience

In the fall of 2007, just over three months before Whoa, My Boss is Naked was published, I was given the opportunity to speak at a college 3 hours away from my house.  I was really excited about it.  Throughout the summer I had been reaching out to college career centers in order to drum up interest for my book and find audiences on which to hone my keynote material. When this particular college (which shall remain nameless) expressed interest, I jumped at the chance to address their students (for free). 

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The guy who booked me - let’s call him “Professor Dupe” - sounded really enthusiastic on the phone.  I was just what the students needed, he said.  They were nearing their mid-terms and my pop culture-infused career advice would provide them with a nice change of pace. Dupe penciled me in for a 30-minute presentation. 

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Upon arriving at the school three weeks later, I was surprised to discover that the “satellite campus” was actually a converted dentists’ office located in the shadow of a strip mall.  When I checked in with the office staff, I was even more surprised to discover that Professor Dupe was out of town and, in his haste to pack, had failed to mention to ANYONE that I existed.

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At this point, another instructor at the school (who had been eavesdropping from the hallway while attempting to dislodge a reluctant Honey Bun from the vending machine) ducked her head into the office and suggested that I speak to her Business class.  Given the way things were shaping up, it probably would have been wise to politely decline her offer, grab some cheap tacos to-go from the strip mall, and head back home.  Unfortunately, I was done in by her eloquent flattery (“sounds neat’) and my own desire to salvage the day.

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It is important to note that my presentation material was geared toward vaguely ambitious early-‘20s college graduates who had grown up watching cable television in the ‘80s and ‘90s.

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There were roughly 12 people in the Business class.  Their median age was roughly 42.  Several did not speak English.  My surprise presentation meant that there would be no cigarette break.  I opened with a joke about “The Bachelor”.  I did not get a rose.

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The next 20 minutes were more awkward than slow dancing in junior high (and involved less eye contact).  I don’t want to get into the blow-by-blow details of the presentation but I will tell you that the first question posed during Q&A was “We ain’t gonna get tested on this stuff, right?”  All the students were visibly relieved when I told them that they wouldn’t be responsible for retaining anything I had said.

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This was my test, not theirs.

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I learned several valuable lessons during my awkward afternoon at Dupe’s College of Chain-Smoking, but one stood out:

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PRESENTATIONS MUST BE NIMBLE

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As a speaker, you need to be prepared to change your script.  Sometimes the mood and make-up of the audience is different than you had expected (as was the case at Dupe’s).  Venue variables like technical difficulties, awkward spaces, lighting, and acoustics often come into play as well.  You need to be able to adjust your style to fit the event. 

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Preparing a nimble presentation means over-preparing.  Develop back up material (anecdotes, jokes, visuals, statistics) that you can utilize to enhance your presentation on the fly. 

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Read audiences, not note cards.

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Finally, don’t allow yourself to be fazed by a hostile or apathetic audience.  Never let ‘em see you sweat…even if they’re allowed to bring firearms to class.

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