I had a younger rep with me at a show not too long ago, and I remember thinking at the time, this is going to go well.
They were engaged, asked good questions, stayed present in conversations, and didn’t fall into the usual trap of scanning badges and moving on. You could see people responding, staying a little longer, asking follow-up questions of their own. It was the kind of interaction you hope for when you send someone out to a show.
By the end of the show, they had a strong list. Not just a pile of scans, but names that meant something, conversations that had a next step behind them, and a few that stood out as clear opportunities.
On the drive back, we talked through a handful of them. They remembered details, who said what, what seemed promising. Everything lined up the way it should.
A few days later, I checked in.
I asked how follow-up was going, and they said they were working through it.
That answer made sense, but something about the pace felt a little off. Not wrong. Just slower than I expected.
So I asked a different question.
“How many have you called?”
There was a pause that told me everything I needed to know.
None.
Trying to Get It Just Right
We sat there for a few seconds, and then they explained where they were in the process.
They had started drafting emails. They wanted to make sure they were thoughtful, not too generic, and that each message reflected the conversation they had at the show. They were trying to get the tone right, which I can appreciate, because no one wants to send something that feels like it could have gone to anyone.
They pulled one up to show me.
It was good. It was well-written, polite, and said all the right things. It also looked like it had been worked on for a while.
I asked how long they had spent on it, and they gave me a number that was longer than the original conversation had lasted. That’s when I knew we weren’t trying to be quick anymore.
We both laughed, because at that point it was obvious what was happening.
The goal had shifted without them realizing it. They weren’t just following up anymore. They were trying to get it perfect.
The Fear of Calling
We kept talking, and I asked why they hadn’t called anyone yet. They didn’t hesitate this time. They said they didn’t want to come across as pushy.
I asked what they meant by that.
They said they didn’t want to interrupt someone’s day, or catch them at a bad time, or put them in a position where they felt like they had to respond on the spot. They wanted to give people space to respond when it worked for them.
All of that sounded thoughtful, and it was. But it felt like there was something else underneath it.
Then I asked a question that made them stop for a second.
“Did anyone at the show seem bothered that you were talking to them?”
They smiled, because they knew the answer.
No.
Those conversations were easy. People stopped to talk, asked questions, stayed longer than they planned. No one looked inconvenienced. No one acted like their time was being taken from them.
But somehow, calling that same person a few days later felt completely different. Like the conversation had somehow gotten more formal just by not happening in person.
When the Show Momentum Slows Down
That’s the part I keep coming back to.
At the show, there wasn’t much hesitation. They walked up, started a conversation, and it either went somewhere or didn’t. There was no script, no draft, no second pass. They were just in it, responding in the moment.
After the show, everything slowed down.
They sat in front of a list, and every name felt like it needed a carefully considered next step. The message needed to sound right, the timing needed to make sense, and the tone had to land somewhere between professional and approachable without leaning too far in either direction.
And somewhere in that process, what should have been a simple, quick follow-up started to feel like something that needed a strategy behind it.
We Made a Call
We ended up calling one of the leads together.
They hesitated for a second before dialing, which I understood. There is a different kind of commitment once the call starts. There is no editing, no rewriting, no stepping away and coming back later. You are either in the conversation or you are not.
The person answered, which we all know doesn’t always happen on the first try.
They recognized the name, remembered the conversation, and picked up right where things had left off. It was not awkward. It was not forced. It sounded a lot like it had at the show, just without the noise in the background.
When the call ended, they looked at me and, with a big, relieved sigh, said, “That was easier than I thought it would be.”
I told them it usually is.
Understanding That it Takes Time
What I took from that had less to do with them and more to do with how this part of the process has changed.
We have made it very easy to capture attention. The tools are there, the process is clear, and the results show up in a neat list at the end of a show.
Following up is still a conversation.
It still depends on how comfortable someone is reaching out, continuing a conversation or starting a new one, and letting it develop without needing it to go anywhere specific right away.
There is also a different expectation now. Messages are quick, responses are quick, and there’s an assumption that if something is done well, it should move forward right away.
That expectation doesn’t always match how these conversations go.
They take time, more than one touch, and a willingness to reach out again, even if the first message doesn’t get a response.
That part has not changed as much as everything else around it.
Following Up Still Takes Time
I still think about that moment when I asked how many calls had been made and got that pause.
It wasn’t a lack of effort or uncertainty about what to do. They had done everything right at the show, and the conversations were there, but once they were back and sitting in front of the list, it felt different.
A few minutes after that call, they went back to their list and started working through it again.
Not perfectly. Not all at once. But they started.
