To develop a natural conversational presence on a date, give the woman your full attention, speak at an unhurried pace, respond to what she actually says and allow your own personality into the exchange. Face her comfortably, put the phone away, ask a question you genuinely care about and share a little of yourself before asking another. You don't need a commanding voice or a dozen clever stories. You need to feel like somebody who is properly there.
I learned the importance of presence at a dinner where the most interesting man in the room barely raised his voice.
We were seated beside a gentleman named Rupert, who wore an aggressively expensive watch, and a quiet chap named Ellis, who restored musical instruments. Rupert dominated the table. His opinions arrived before anyone had requested them, usually accompanied by a description of the hotel in which he'd first formed them.
Ellis asked a woman opposite us about a tiny silver brooch she was wearing. She told him it had belonged to her grandmother, who'd played the violin in a dance band.
He listened. Then he asked, “Does it remind you of the music, or of her?”
She stopped, thought, and smiled. The two of them spent the rest of dinner talking as though an entire ballroom of people had quietly disappeared.
Rupert continued describing a villa in Tuscany to anyone within range.
My dear fellow, there's a difference between being noticed and making another person feel that she's been noticed. The second is far more valuable on a date.
Start by giving her the room
Presence isn't an expression you put on. It's an ordinary, observable bit of conduct.
When she speaks, turn towards her. Don't glance repeatedly at the entrance to see who else has arrived. Don't check the little rectangle in your pocket every time it vibrates. And don't look over her shoulder because a television somewhere is showing football scores.
You can listen with your whole body without adopting the posture of a marble statue. Sit or stand comfortably. Face her when she makes a point. Let your expression respond to the story, rather than wearing the fixed smile of a man having his photograph taken.
If the restaurant is too loud, move or suggest somewhere quieter. You cannot demonstrate delightful attentiveness while asking “What?” after every third sentence.
The first gift you give a person on a date is that, for this little stretch of the evening, you are choosing to be with them.
Not secretly conducting a search for a more glamorous table.
A good question has a second question inside it
Picture a man who asks, “Where did you grow up?”
“Near Whitby,” she says.
“Lovely. What's your job?”
That is not really a conversation. It's a passport interview wearing cufflinks.
Suppose instead he says, “Whitby! Do you still get back there?”
She tells him about visiting her mother and the absurd wind on the harbour. He asks whether there's somewhere she'd recommend for fish and chips. She teases him for caring about dinner more than the beautiful coastline. He cheerfully accepts the accusation.
A conversation has begun because he stayed with what she offered.
This is a particularly useful habit when you fancy someone. Nerves encourage a man to hunt for the next topic rather than enjoying the current one. Listen for the detail that carries a little feeling: a favourite place, a peculiar colleague, a family tradition, an unexpectedly disastrous holiday.
Then ask about that.
Not every answer requires further investigation. If she gives a short reply and moves on, follow her lead. Curiosity should feel like company, not excavation.
Allow yourself to have opinions
I must defend the quiet gentleman from a common misunderstanding.
Being attentive does not mean becoming a decorative plant.
Ellis did not simply nod while his companion spoke for two hours. He told her that he thought some beautifully restored violins sounded worse than instruments whose scratches had been left alone. She disagreed, and they argued quite happily about whether imperfections gave a thing its character.
He was present because he was genuinely participating.
If she tells you she loves a city you've visited, offer your own memory. If she asks what you like doing at weekends, give her an answer with a little life in it. “I enjoy cooking” is perfectly acceptable; “I make a lasagne that has caused two family arguments and a brief reconciliation” gives her somewhere to go.
And if you have a different preference, say so pleasantly. Your personality should be visible.
There is nothing attractive about making a woman drag your opinions into daylight with a rope.
What your voice should do
A natural presence rarely requires a louder voice. It requires a voice that belongs in the conversation.
Finish sentences rather than allowing your final words to evaporate into the tablecloth. Speak clearly enough for her to hear and slowly enough that she has room to respond. If you're animated, be animated; if you're softly spoken, don't suddenly impersonate an army sergeant.
You can tell a story with pace and expression. A pause just before the funny part can be delicious. But don't narrate every event as though the monarchy depends upon the outcome.
I once heard Rupert recount the purchase of a pair of shoes. By the time he'd described the shop's parquet flooring, I had considered emigrating.
Ellis told a story about losing a tiny violin bridge down an air vent. It lasted perhaps forty seconds. The woman opposite him laughed so hard she nearly knocked over her glass.
The difference wasn't charisma bestowed at birth. Ellis knew what the interesting part of the story was, and when to stop.
Use little observations to make the evening yours
Some conversational presence comes from noticing what the two of you are actually experiencing.
Perhaps the menu contains an astonishing description of an ordinary potato. Perhaps the pianist is playing a familiar tune. Perhaps you both realise the gentleman at the next table has been unsuccessfully trying to fold a napkin into a swan.
A quick, kindly observation can create a shared moment: “I think that potato has had a more extravagant education than either of us.”
Notice I said kindly. Turning the staff or other diners into targets for ridicule isn't an attractive form of wit.
You might ask her opinion of an unusual painting, invite her to choose between two desserts or point out something that genuinely amuses you.
The most charming exchanges often become memorable because they belong to that particular evening, not because somebody imported a famous line from the internet.
The moment conversation becomes flirting
You can be an excellent conversationalist and leave a woman with no idea whether you're romantically interested.
Presence becomes a little more flirtatious when your warmth is personal.
“You've got a wonderful way of telling a story,” you might say, after she's made a disastrous holiday sound like a triumph.
Or, after a lively discussion, “I had rather hoped we'd agree on something tonight, but I'm enjoying this far too much.”
Both say something specific about her and the time you're spending together. They don't require a theatrical compliment about her body or an elaborate routine.
If she smiles, joins the teasing and appears happy to keep talking, you may continue gently. If she changes the subject or seems uncomfortable, let the flirtation go. You can still be pleasant company.
And if you're not sure whether the attraction is mutual, don't promote a single smile into a sworn declaration. A clear invitation to meet again tells you much more.
Don't confuse being memorable with dominating the room
Rupert's approach had two remarkable characteristics. First, it produced a tremendous quantity of speech. Second, nobody could get a word in.
He had a story for every destination, an opinion about every wine and an anecdote about the achievements of each guest. Whatever she'd done, he'd done it at a more exclusive venue.
If you're tempted to impress a woman by taking charge of the entire evening, try a much simpler experiment.
Tell one story. Ask about hers. Let her finish. If she asks another question, answer it properly.
Do not fight to be the most fascinating person at the table. Discover whether the two of you are fascinating to each other.
A good conversational presence leaves room for laughter, disagreement and those surprising little tangents that nobody could have planned.
What if you're usually shy or very quiet?
Then begin with what you already do well.
Perhaps you notice details. Perhaps you remember things people mention. Perhaps you're good at asking thoughtful questions. Those are useful qualities on a date.
You don't have to become a loud entertainer to keep a woman's interest. But don't hide so thoroughly that she spends the whole evening speaking into silence.
If she asks about you, give a proper answer. If she says something you find funny, allow yourself to laugh. If you like her, offer a small, sincere compliment rather than hoping she'll guess.
A quiet man can be warmly engaged. There's a tremendous difference between calm and absent.
And if a woman prefers someone more boisterous, that's her preference. It doesn't mean you must rebuild your personality from scratch.
A useful test halfway through the date
Forget the usual dreadful question: “Am I impressing her?”
Try these instead.
Can you name something interesting she told you tonight? Has she learned anything real about you? Are you both contributing to the conversation? And are you enjoying her company, or merely trying to secure her approval?
If the answers are all no, the evening may have become a performance.
Bring yourself back to the person in front of you. Ask about something she mentioned earlier. Offer an opinion of your own. Stop looking for the perfect next line.
If you've talked happily for an hour but don't feel a spark, that's perfectly possible too. Presence doesn't guarantee chemistry; it makes an honest meeting easier.
The violin, the brooch and the final word
Later that evening I saw Ellis helping his companion into her coat. They'd agreed to visit a small music exhibition the following weekend.
Rupert was still talking about Tuscany.
I'm not promising that Ellis would appeal to everyone he met. Attraction doesn't work like an examination in which listening earns a fixed number of points.
But Ellis had done something worth borrowing. He paid attention, contributed his own personality and gave the conversation room to become something neither person had rehearsed.
That's natural presence.
If you'd like a little more help taking those first conversations into more promising romantic territory, you can find Monty's little introduction, 7 Secrets to Becoming a Babe Magnet, at the free-offer invitation below.
Now, old boy, do put that telephone away. The woman opposite you has just told you something considerably more interesting than your notifications.