You Schmooze, You Lose

I hate schmoozing. I hate seeing others engage in the art of the ass-kiss—that syrupy-sweet sycophant prescription for upward mobility—whether of the social or work-world variety. You know what I’m talking about. You probably do it yourself. And worse, you probably rationalize that it’s necessary. But is it? What does schmoozing really prove?

Schmoozing is as obviously phony as a bad hair piece. And there’ll be hell toupee for those who move up and try to maintain their altitude by schmoozing. Face it: How long can you dress well and sling the bull before the bottom falls out? Consider this: You’re going to have to keep on doing whatever variety of schmoozing has wrought you success—like a woman who gets Botox injections. Reminds me of the time my younger son started talking with a British accent (unbeknownst to me) to impress his classmates when we moved to the country a few years ago. He pulled it off; I found out about it during my first parent-teacher conference—when his teacher asked me about our time in England. When he abruptly stopped doing it some time later, I asked him why. “I didn’t want to have to do it forever,” he said.

Schmoozing masks real merit. Haven’t you got real ability? Or, if you’re not quite where you want to be in that department yet, wouldn’t you rather work to earn that promotion? I know Thoreau said it’s okay to build castles in the air. Just remember the disclaimer he added, though. You’ve got to put foundations under them. Don’t you know that if you’ve really “got it,” you (and your ability) will get noticed? All in good time.

Who do you think you are? you say. Get off your high horse, you say. Your ideals and integrity and about three bucks will get you a latte at Starbucks. And you’re right—on one level, at least. My lifestyle certainly doesn’t include luxury. As individuals, we need to consider whether, as Machiavelli supposedly said, the end justifies the means. Life is all about choices—individual choices. Life is all about being able to live with yourself after you make those choices.

So, the next time you consider schmoozing the boss to get that promotion, the next time you tell an editor you love that journal to get him to publish your story, lie to a publisher that you’ve read all their company’s books to get her to read yours, or laugh at the sickest joke you ever heard just because The Grand Poomba (whose social club you lust to join) told it, go immediately to the nearest mirror and get up close and personal with your own mug. Ask yourself: Is my nose turning a tad browner? Do I want it that way? Like I said, we all make our own choices.

Sharon Erby recently graduated from the MFA Program in Creative Writing at Wilkes University, Wilkes-Barre, PA, where she was awarded the Norris Church Mailer Fellowship. She teaches at Wilson College, Chambersburg, PA, a liberal arts college dedicated to the education of women. Her creative work has appeared or is forthcoming in Feminist Studies, Slice, Melusine, or Woman in the 21st Century, Chaffey Review, and Glossolalia, among others