I got a cold-call email at work today from a person who tried to make herself seem like a friend or contact so that I'd be more likely to respond. If you work in a corporate job you probably know the kind of thing. There's the classic fake "Following up on our last conversation" intro (there was no previous convo) or "More info you asked for about XYZ" (never heard of XYZ). This one tried to play to the college listed in my LinkedIn profile to come across as having something in common. It was like, "Oh, wow, you went to Cornell, too, I bet you're really looking forward to the Cherry Blossom Festival!"
This bombed as a gambit to establish rapport because I'd never heard of a cherry blossom festival at Cornell. It certainly wasn't a thing during the 4 years I was a student there, and I'm virtually certain it wasn't a thing for at least 10 years prior (it still would've been talked about as campus folklore) or 10 years since (I would've read about it in alumni newsletters they were regularly sending me). It's a fail of an attempt to seem familiar.
Now, if the same person had reached out with, "Cornell! Wow, it's almost time for Dragon Day, and I'll bet you have memories!" I might actually have responded. Even to a complete stranger I might have replied with something like, "I sure do!" and mentioned the time I participated in a Dragon Day parade as an act of civil disobedience after craven university administrators tried to declare it illegal. Or the time my friends stole a dragon— a baby dragon—and drunk, angry dragon-parents swarmed the house I was living in, demanding it back. Good times! But alas, no, this stranger's attempt at camaraderie was to cite a nonexistent cherry blossom festival.
This bombed as a gambit to establish rapport because I'd never heard of a cherry blossom festival at Cornell. It certainly wasn't a thing during the 4 years I was a student there, and I'm virtually certain it wasn't a thing for at least 10 years prior (it still would've been talked about as campus folklore) or 10 years since (I would've read about it in alumni newsletters they were regularly sending me). It's a fail of an attempt to seem familiar.
Now, if the same person had reached out with, "Cornell! Wow, it's almost time for Dragon Day, and I'll bet you have memories!" I might actually have responded. Even to a complete stranger I might have replied with something like, "I sure do!" and mentioned the time I participated in a Dragon Day parade as an act of civil disobedience after craven university administrators tried to declare it illegal. Or the time my friends stole a dragon— a baby dragon—and drunk, angry dragon-parents swarmed the house I was living in, demanding it back. Good times! But alas, no, this stranger's attempt at camaraderie was to cite a nonexistent cherry blossom festival.