Dreadiquette: Workplace small talk isn't for everyone

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Question: How was your weekend? Answer: Too short.

You have any big plans for the weekend? Did you do anything fun? Office small talk is often the needed ice breaker for the long week's slog ahead. It fills those odd gaps in conversations and provides the essential tonic for an uncomfortable silence in the break room. We all hear it; we all engage in it. But at a urinal? Um, no thanks. I have to keep my boundaries, even if some walls around me are coming down – for real. Let me explain.

We get all types of personalities in the workplace. We've got the talkers, stealth experts, low-volume whisperers, high-volume singers, bombastic noise makers, snotty snifflers, cringe-inducing throat clearers, head bangers (musically and metaphorically), room squatters, break room bandits, chair rockers, pen tappers, ice crunchers, speaker phone jockeys, and even a keyboard pianist playing repetitive morse code in a 'teclado staccato' style, a term I completely made up just now. Oh, and to the person who needs to use a can of compressed air for your keyboard several times a day, stop it. Really, stop it. Stop eating baked goods at your desk. Maybe that'll help.

I wonder what I would tell a therapist about the time when the little things that apparently mean a lot began to take over my day-to-day. "Well, it all started with walls," I'd probably begin. You see, in a previous job, I was a friendly, happy, diligent worker, safe in his own creative space with just enough of an opening to get some air, venture out, interact with co-workers and then get back to my tasks. I felt secure enough to hold a conversation without anyone who wasn't involved giving a rat's behind about what it might be about. I was a free-range creative; not exactly pasture-raised, but liberated enough to roam around when I needed to get away from my desk and shielded enough from distractions that would hamper the avalanche of ideas flowing through my head. At least it seemed that way to me.

Then we got the email. Within months, we would be moving our office to a new location with big windows, big meeting rooms and, gasp, big spaces with no walls. Cubicles were not part of the plan. There would only be a small 18-inch divider between desks. Oh fun! Needless to say, not everyone was open to the open office concept. As a writer and creative content guy, I admit I was one of them.

During our pre-move meetings, I focused on asking about the most pressing concerns like: "will there be more bathroom stalls?" We were a growing company and yet, at least for the guys, there was only a single "phone booth" at each side of the building, if you get my drift. "Yes" was the answer. "There will be two." What wasn't said was that there would be only one bathroom, rather than the two we had before. Same result, different spin. To use airline parlance, they basically said "we're giving you more choices in coach by putting all the seats in our entire fleet into a single aircraft. But we'll have Wi-Fi."

Somewhat deflated, I added: "will the stalls also be separated by 18-inch dividers?" I didn't realize how cathartic the laughter that followed would be. It's as if my question was billowing in everyone's mind like a brewing thunderstorm and the snarky remark was what it took to finally let it pour down. "Thank you for saying that," I was told more than once. I'm still not sure what I really did, yet there we all were. As with many things in life, we moved on with the move and people sort of adjusted, myself included.

If you've ever wondered what it's like to live with a bunch of different roommates at one time, take an airline flight, or just observe what goes on in an open office. When it first happens, people literally look around not quite sure what to do. Ever bring a new kitten home and place it on the floor? It's like that. After a while, people start assuming the roles we're most familiar with. Only this time it's for everyone to see. And that's the rub. It's for everyone to see.

If these walls could talk, they'd probably ask something awkward.

As a proud member of the INFP community, my inner peace is of great value. And as anyone who thrives on using different tones and voices when writing and producing other creative content will tell you, the need to focus is frequently challenged by innocuous goings-on. I enjoy people. I really do. But I'm also one of those who needs some quiet after constant interaction. I live an interesting dichotomy: I have no problem making a presentation in front of a large group of strangers or talking to the media, but I can stress over making a phone call to get my water heater fixed. Go figure.

It's the small talk dynamic at work that's most amusing to me, partly because it moves like a train without rails. You just don't know where it's going to go. I can engage with the best of them but there are times when anything more than a quick "how are you?" and the requisite "I'm fine and you?" response can get awkward. This doesn't apply to our work friends and those we interact most closely with, but when it comes to our peripheral work families, sometimes we just don't have much more to add but a polite smile. If there indeed is a time and place for everything, there is one where small talk gets weird for me, and that's the bathroom.

Running into someone there can have one of two outcomes: you proceed, mutually acknowledging with the other guests the unspoken code of going about your business unannounced; or the barking dog walks in, announces your name and forces you to bleat out a bladder's worth of everything you've been up to. And of course, there's a listener in that "phone booth" most certainly transcribing every word. I know it's silly and not entirely how it happens but that's the warped reality for those of us who don't enjoy such banter in uncomfortable places.

Growing up with family around, I had a better assurance of privacy when I needed it, believe it or not. At work, especially in an open office environment, it's a whole other experience. Even an escape to the most private of places doesn't offer much comfort when people in your work family talk personal and other business while conducting business of their own. I've even heard people on phone calls while on a very, very "busy" day. You know exactly what I mean. It's much easier in a public setting where you're unlikely to see your bathroom mates ever again, but people you see every day? I guess I never came across Peeing with the Boss and Other Ways to Stay Productive in my search for self-help reading but I'm open to recommendations if that's what it takes.

In the meantime, I'll take the small talk out in the open, in an elevator, getting into or out of my car, or while filling a container with water or coffee. You know, the way it was written since the beginning of workdom. This is what makes an offsite event or holiday gathering shine. It's the best opportunity to get to know someone you only see in passing, only this time in a different setting where everything is new to both of you – neutral ground. I met some of my best work friends this way and if you're shy about engaging in small talk, this is one of the easiest ways to get over it.

For those of you with the ability to engage in conversation absolutely anywhere imaginable, I admire you. I really do. Let's just take it to a comfortable place, OK?

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