The Smalltalk Epidemic

And how you can vaccinate yourself


There are more than a few reasons why I enjoy working from home, and not just because of the proximity to my bed.  There's no commute, which means I don't have to suffer bodily injury and panic attacks while sandwiched uncomfortably between a religious zealot who doesn't believe in showers, Old Country Buffet's Customer of the Century, and Fortysomething-Guy-Who-Still-Overstuffs-His-Jansport.  There's my departmental assistant, who clears his throat and goes "AAHHHHH!!!!" every time he takes a sip of whatever beverage is handy, constantly interrupts his superiors to spout nonsensical bullshit, and is a specific breed of schmoozy, tampon-stuck-up-his-ass douchebag that thinks a jazzy dance accompanied by a thumbs-up validates his "friendship" with everyone else in my office.  There's the guy next to me who is definitely hard of hearing in at least one of his ears and speaks about 15 decibels louder than what's generally considered to be audible.  There's the gossipy office manager who looks like Luis Guzman and truly believes he is privy to everyone else's goings-on, public or not.  There is, of course, my phobia of eavesdroppers when I talk to anyone on the phone, personal or business-related, and my anxiety that they are silently snickering at me from their adjacent cubicles.  There's the fact that I simply happen to be more productive when I'm in an environment in which I feel comfortable.

All of these rationales aside, which may seem like deterrents enough, the number-one reason I prefer to shorten my commute from Lincoln Park-Loop to Bedroom-Living Room, and it's not the 3:30 airing of Jeopardy!, although that's close to the top; the primary impetus for avoiding at all costs the offices of Nameless Corporation, is this:

I FUCKING HATE SMALLTALK!

I think it's really unfair that just because I am thirsty and a slave to caffeine, just because my glass of water is empty, that I have to sit there with some asshole with whom I'd never interact outside the confines of this glass prison and pontificate about the finer points of Trader Joe's hummus versus Whole Foods hummus.  I don't like your hideous sweater.  In fact, I hate your hideous appliqued sweater.  And I know you don't like my boots (even though they're awesome).  So why are we exchanging pleasantries outside the door while fumbling for our keycards (for the record, it would be a lot easier to find the damn thing if I didn't have to glance bashfully down at my [awesome] boots and force out, "Oh, thanks, I got them at the Nordstrom Semi-Annual Sale! On SALE!").  When weighing the options over for attending the company holiday party, I constructed a traditional pro/con list as follows:

PROS:

-Free Food

-Free Booze

-Possibility of making some work friends/casual sex with one of 3 decent looking coworkers

CONS:

-Gabbing/chitchatting/shooting the shit about the weather/sports/"what your holiday traditions are"/favorite moronic cupcakery in the city with a gaggle of tools. On a trolley.

Enough said.  I RSVP'ed with my regrets, saying that I had a root canal, a colonoscopy, and my grandmother's corns to massage that night instead.

For instance, at this very moment I'm listening to 2 coworkers small-talking about basketball.  One of them is clearly both passionate and knowledgeable about the sport, both college and pro, and is enjoying flexing his considerable breadth of expertise.  The other one knows absolutely nothing about either, and is nodding and blinking like a slackjawed, slightly retarded basset hound, occasionally chiming in his assent with an "uh-huh" or a "definitely", or even an "I know, man! It's amazing."  He clearly could not care less.

Unfortunately for that guy, he doesn't possess the mental acuity I do when it comes to avoiding small talk.  Here, a couple of tips for the less erudite:

1. Keep your head down and stay out of sight.  If no one can see you, then no one will talk to you.

2. When forced to engage in small talk, use monosyllabic answers, shrug nonchalantly, giggle awkwardly, and turn your back.

3. Keep your headphones on AT ALL TIMES.

4. Swear.  It makes people uncomfortable and they will want to speak to you less.

5. If all else fails and you can't avoid having a pointless conversation about cashmere socks, just suck it up, tell them you like the ones from Neiman's the best, and go about your day.  Because like a yeast infection, smalltalk is awkward, uncomfortable, and distasteful, but it won't actually kill you.