Small Talk Sucks

There is nothing worse than boarding the subway and running into someone you know.  It's 8am and I am hungover, exhausted and feeling a bit agoraphobic in this subway car as I am being smooshed between sweaty, smelly commuters, who should have taken a shower last night or this morning.  Now, you suddenly appear, all happy and excited to see me.  Yes, it has been a while.  There is a reason for that.  And WTF?  This is not Small Town, USA. Why do you have so much energy?  Hello!  It's 8am! We are New Yorkers for fuck's sake.  We have earned our right to not be morning people.

Yes, It's hot outside.  Yes, Thursday's sometimes feel like Friday's.  Yes, you're hoping your trust fund will kick in someday.  I too am hoping that your fund kicks in pronto so you will stop having to ride the subway and I can go to school, pleasantly ignored.   

Tip:  There is a reason why my iPod is on the highest decibel possible AND why I stuffed Tolstoy's War and Peace into my bag.  Because you are infinitely more boring than a1,273 page translation of a novel that is panoramic study of early 19th-Century Russian Society.  Worse, you don't come with Cliff's Notes.

I HATE small talk.  With a name like 'small talk', which suggests insignificance,  you would think evolution would have nipped this in the bud long ago.  I know, I sound awful, but seriously, any unplanned meeting requires spontaneous small talk, which is almost always awkward, at best.  I guess, before the advent of readily available printed materials, portable music, mobile devices, iPads, Nooks, etc. small talk served a purpose.  Small talk was a way to catch up on gossip and confirm that its hotter than Hades in this subway car.  But, with text messaging, Facebook and every other virtual social medium, finding out the juicy 'gossip' is only a button or a click away.  So, in essence, the point of small talk is no longer there.

But, of course, not engaging in small talk would be a grand social faux pas.

Small Talk -1 point

Me- zilch

Though, on my way home from school I ran into an old friend.  This could have been a 'small talk' issue.  He proceeded to inform me that the last time we had seen each other was at some bar in Alphabet City.  Well, he had met some girl that night who defeated his interest in her when she disclosed that she works at an S&M club.  Her specialty? Cock and Ball Torture.  It was good to see him.