I don’t speak German. Indeed, I don’t speak any language other than English.
But I do have (if I may say so myself) a good ear. I pick up on things and process them.
A few years ago I was at a business meeting in Germany. There were bottles of water and “biscuits” on the table. I was asked what water I wanted.
“I’ll have the Spritzig” says I
“You pronounced that perfectly! Do you speak German?” says one of my hosts.
“No. I suppose I was lucky there.” I replied.
A bit later, I was offered some coffee. I held out my cup and said “Bitte.”
“Are you sure you don’t speak German?” I was asked.
“I’m fairly certain I don’t, Danke.” I replied.
Everyone laughed. We finalized the contract and all were happy. But I’m pretty sure my hosts were convinced I speak German, which I don’t.
In junior high, our biology teacher would let us mill around outside of the classroom if it ran a little short. We’d be excused when the bell rang–a simple electronic sound. The teacher was kinda old and eccentric and not 100% there at the best of times.
One day, I just made a doooooooo sound at the right pitch and duration, a minute or two before the actual bell. She let us go! I’m not sure if I actually fooled her or if she decided “eh, close enough” and wanted us out of her hair, but she never mentioned it.
All the time. Provide certain bits of the story and let people figure it out (wrong) themselves. Better yet is the ability to the the absolute TRUTH and be disbelieved. In my teens, the conversation between my mother and I would be:
“Where are you guys off to tonight?”
“Well, we’re going to go drink, do drugs and fool around with godless women.”
I have done a lot of this in business. I let people draw their own conclusions. Usually it’s the one where they think every problem in their life will disappear if I solve this one troublesome problem for them. No it won’t, new problems will fill the space left if any old ones are removed. But who am I to argue.
I’ve found people the telling the absolute truth when someone is sure you will lie always rattles them. I mean always, people sort of brace themselves for a lie coming there way and given the raw naked truth creates a mental dissonance that interrupts normal brain functioning. Once that happens you can tell them those aren’t the droids they’re looking for and they’ll believe it.
It all started one dark and stormy night, the bourbon glasses refracting light onto the green felt, and I said “Oh, by the way, it looks like I have a flush, but I don’t.” (That kept two guys betting; and it was true, I had a higher hand) (a full house)
So other people picked up on that, and regularly say things like “Damn, I was hoping for a Jack.” And, yes, a Jack would’ve helped, but the spade they got meant an even better hand.