Flattery class

I have often wondered if it is possible to change your personality. In a deliberate and concise manner, that is. I have also caught myself speculating about whether flattery is an inherent or acquired skill. Incidentally, what these haphazard queries prove is that I am plagued by random thoughts all the time, which is true, but here I digress.

So, are there any routine classes where they teach you how to flatter? Where you can be taught to — lavish praise and compliments on (someone), often insincerely and with the aim of furthering one’s own interests — as the dictionary defines it? I want to know because if someone asks me an honest question I find myself speaking my mind instinctively and calling a “spade a spade” with the result that instead of my interests getting furthered, they sort of, take a nosedive. 

But I have a friend who has been trying to make me realise how important learning this talent is. He gets all the long-winded red-tape ridden official work, which needs zillions of stamp paper, and millions of attested signatures, done in a jiffy. I would think it was all an empty boast if I had not seen it with my own eyes. 

I went with him to a crumbling government building once, where we had to get some documents registered. He walked in with unhurried strides and immediately complimented the fat woman in front of us in the queue, who was wearing a bright red headscarf. She beamed at him and moved us ahead of her in the line. When we reached the officer at the window, he offered him a cigarette from the pack that he was carrying and leaned in to light it for him. 

After also lighting one for himself, he chatted with him amicably, emphasising how close he was to the officer’s older brother. “We are bum chums since our school days,” he stressed. “But I have never seen you before,” the officer claimed. I watched the entire scenario with amusement wondering how my friend would get out of this one. 

“You were very small then, a delicate little boy in kindergarten. But look at you now. Who would have thought you would turn out to be a dashing young man doing such an important job. Your brother must be proud of you,” he replied. 

The officer grinned at us and without asking any further questions picked up the heavy stamper and brought it down on the document that we had handed him. The cigarette in his hand was still half smoked I noticed, as we walked away after completing the job in 15 minutes, that would have otherwise taken me 5 hours.

For the next few days I did some self-coaching and I am happy to report that I was somewhat successful in “furthering my interests”.

Then I got my cellphone bill with a hefty fine added to it because I had forgotten to clear it for three months. 

“Good morning, what a beautiful scarf you’re wearing,” I told the lady at the billing counter.

“Give me the exact amount, I don’t have change,” she growled at me.

“Your sister and I were bum chums in school. Can you waive the fine?” I tried again.

“I’ve never seen you before’,” she said.

“You were very small then, a delicate little girl in kindergarten…,” I babbled.

“My sister is dead. Fine please, and make it the exact amount,” she cut in.