Small Talk.

I took an Uber to work this morning so I could I head straight to the airport for my flight tonight. I always feel really classy being “chauffeured” to work, like I’m a real bitness woman or something. Taking an Uber is nice, but nothing can spoil a ride quicker than a driver who talks too much. When my driver kept talking at the beginning of the ride, I got nervous that he’d talk me all the way to my destination, but then I started asking him questions. I’ve surprised myself the last few years at my ability to engage in conversation with strangers, even though I hate talking to them. I loathe small talk, or at least I thought I did. Small talk (for me at least) has a negative connotation, I see it as a vehicle to be pretentious in a covert way. People are nosy and want to know what you do and who you work for so they can size you up against themselves to see if they’re better than you. The statement I made is often very true, but I’ve learned in the last few years that there are a lot of genuine people out there who just want to talk.

My driver this morning was a white man who looked like he was in his late 60’s or early 70’s, and was telling me about his stepson who got married to his “baby mama” after five years and two kids. Pause. Baby mama? I wasn’t sure at the moment if I needed to feel a way or not, but I decided I’d give Mr. White Man a pass. He continued to talk and I continued to ask questions until he shared the most interesting piece of information of our time together– he’s been married to a Black woman since the early 90’s. OK Joseph, I see you playa. He told me of a few instances where he and his wife experienced some tough and even violent situations by people who didn’t agree with their interracial relationship, mostly at the hands of Black men. I thought that was interesting and wanted to know more, but decided not to explore that any further. He dropped me off at work and I went on about my business.

After I started writing this entry, I realized there was 93% chance the “baby mama” and stepson he referred to in our conversation were Black. I decided I felt a slight way, but because I enjoyed our conversation and felt like he wasn’t crazy, I got over it. I must admit, my small talk today wasn’t as painful as I make it out to be, but I still don’t expect I’ll be chatting it up with random strangers on the regular.