I'm not good at small talk. I don't like it. I've been told I'm too shy and I need to talk to new people. To that, I now say, no, I don't. I talk to who I want and that's plenty for me. I'm not against meeting new people but I can pretty much tell within about 2 minutes if they're my kind of normal. And if they're not, I'd rather not waste my time.
I don't think it's necessary to continue a conversation just to fill the awkward silence. Oh, I can do the, "hi, how are you, just fine" stuff. I just don't mingle well. I don't ask people questions. I will answer questions and speak when spoken to, but otherwise, I'm perfectly content with keeping quiet if I have nothing to say. Filler is fodder.
I hate when I'm waiting for my prescription at the pharmacy or sitting in the lobby during an oil change and the one person stuck with me is a talker. And they either talk directly to me or just random thoughts come spilling out of their mouthes and they expect me to chime in.
Or people who don't usually talk to me try to butter me up because they want something. Just spill it, man. Get to it. I don't have time for you to kiss my butt. I don't like you, you don't like me. We know this. Just, on with it, please.
I'm sure some people think I'm rude, or bitchy, or just plain mean. And that's fine, I've never claimed to be a nice person. I doubt at my funeral someone will get up and say, "She was so sweet, always had a kind word to say, never raised her voice. Such a lady." That's not me and I've accepted that. But at least I'm real.
"And I no longer justify reasons for the way that I behave. I offer no apologies for the things that I believe and say. And I like it that way." - Real Live Woman" by Trisha Yearwood