Let me start this way:

I am a nice person. I am one of those people who is very nice and polite to strangers. I also treat my friends and family well. And I have a lot of friends.

I know that I can talk at least a little bit about a lot of different topics. I enjoy a good conversation as good as the next person.

But I have no patience for small talk. You know, the empty conversations about the weather or the neighbor that way too many people resort to when they: 

1) have nothing better to do, or 

2) get too nervous about having silence and feel they need to fill up that space with something or

3) are as stuck as you are - whether on line somewhere, in the corner at a boring party or in some situation that doesn’t look to be changing or ending any time soon

I’ve always wished a little bit that I was one of those people who could talk and talk to anyone or everyone, wherever. There’s something nice and open about those “I talk to everyone, everywhere people.”   

But that isn’t me. I don’t like the phone (aside from my sister, with whom I speak multiple times per day, there are few people I talk to on the phone regularly). If I am on my morning walk, I say “hi” or “good morning” to everyone I see, but I don’t want to stop and talk.

We have a fair number of retirees in my neighborhood. In the morning, I think it’s fair to say they are in less of a hurry than I am.

There is one gentleman in particular who always finds me at the worst moments. He just magically appears out of nowhere. This man is the nicest man ever. I have nothing but great things to say about his kind heart.  He always seems so happy to see me and gives me a big hug and kiss (despite my not having brushed my teeth, put on deoderant or bothered to put on a bra yet).

How do I tell him it’s just not the right time? If I am rushing out in the morning, yelling at my kids to get themselves out to the car and their shoes on their feet, please don’t walk up my driveway and ask me how I’m doing. Or embrace me for that matter.

And please, for the love of G-d, don’t make a comment about how I am always in a hurry. I don’t think I am more important than you are, but I am in more of a rush than you are, especially at 7:13 on a Tuesday morning.

Please, don’t mozy down my driveway and stop me as if we’re two souls leisurely strolling the Lido Deck on The Love Boat. And while you’re at it, don’t ask me about the weather or the neighbor either. You keep your small talk space from me and I promise to do the same :).

Filed under: Allison Nazarian, humor for women