I have a confession to make: I hate small talk. I always have. Ever since I was a child, I have been puzzled by the bizarre ritual we have wherein strangers must greet each other by asking (but not caring) about each other's day, and, more often than not, making some quip about the weather.

Before I continue, I should note that I'm about to make a lot of generalizations about people — particularly about introverts and extroverts. Let it be said for the record that, like any other situation in life, not all people from category A will do X, and not all people from category B will do Y. There are introverts who like to party, and there are extroverts who like to curl up with a good book on a quiet night. However, I've been around long enough to notice a few trends that exist when it comes to the introvert/extrovert divide, and it is from these observations that I draw my conclusions.

My distaste for chitchat probably peaked somewhere around my late teens, when someone remarking, "boy, it's hot!" in the middle of August would elicit from me an eye-roll capable of being seen from Saturn. I try to be more tactful these days. Still, in my mind, the only appropriate time to talk about the weather is if you are a meteorologist, there is a tornado currently tearing through the middle of your home, or the planet has abruptly changed direction and is now hurtling toward Sol at an alarming rate.

Worse still is our cultural tendency to constantly be asking those three little words: "how are you?" Now, let me be clear: there's nothing wrong with caring about someone, or genuinely wanting to know about their day. Where I draw the line is when the guy at the Taco Bell drive-thru begins my order with, "hi, how are you today?" My only option, really, is to say, "good, thanks." It could be the worst day of my life. I could have woken up to discover that my house burnt down around me during the night, but the only thing I am really permitted to say when a stranger asks how I'm doing is "good, thanks." And let's be honest, even if my day is going splendidly, nobody actually takes the, "hi, how are you?" ritual seriously. Taco Bell Guy doesn't care if I'm doing well. Like everyone else, he just wants to clock out and go home. So why is he pressured into asking about my life, and why am I forced to respond?

Now, before you write me off as a surly curmudgeon who probably lives in a cave with her seven cats, realize that my dislike of small talk comes from a desire to make genuine human connections. This, I think, is one of the more difficult things about being a strong introvert: we don't tend to waste words, and we don't tend to form only loose bonds with other people. If you manage to make good friends with a deeply-rooted introvert, you've probably got a friend for life- just don't expect them to want to go out and party with you.

Unfortunately for us major introverts, small talk is a way of life for most people. There are people who genuinely enjoy repeating the same four or five socially condoned phrases to each other as they go about their day. And, honestly, that's fine. There's nothing wrong with that. It does, however, pose some challenges for introverts to overcome. We have to learn how to bite our tongues and fake a smile when out at the grocery store or while waiting in line at the DMV. Not because we are doing extroverts some great service by playing along, but because people should be respected no matter what the situation is.

This brings me to my main point, and something that took me nearly thirty years to figure out: introverts, in my experience, have a tendency to judge others very quickly. If those judged don't fit into the small category of like-minded individuals, it's all too easy for an introvert to write them off completely. This is a terrible mistake, and it comes from a false premise. The secret is this: introverts tend to want to talk about big ideas and share our deepest thoughts. When we go out of our way to talk to a stranger, we want it to mean something. We want to know if they believe in extraterrestrial life. We want their opinion on God. We want to hear about the latest puzzle they've been trying to crack or the best book they've read recently. We want to connect with them on a deep intellectual level that, for some, may even border on the spiritual. So, when our interaction with someone basically amounts to an exchange about the weather and perhaps a quick conversation about music or sports, it's easy to write that person off as not fitting into the "interactive" category of our social circles.

The irony here is that from someone else's point of view, the introvert may come off as weird, elitist, or totally unrelatable. The reality, though, is that introverts are probably more interested in forming deep connections with other people than are extroverts. We just tend to want to get right to the meat of the conversation, and skip the fluffy introductory chatter.

The takeaway, then, is this: if you want to make more friends and have a deeper connection with people, a good understanding of what makes different personality types tick will go a long way. If you are someone who likes to cut right to the heart of matters, consider allowing others a few conversations first to warm up to the more interesting topics. If you enjoy small talk and socializing no matter the topic of conversation, don't get upset the next time you meet someone who seems disinterested in you. Yes, perhaps you are boring them, but it's more likely that they are dying for a chance to talk about something really meaningful with you. Writing people off before you have a chance to really get to know them does both of you a disservice, and this is something I wish I had realized much earlier in life. Sometimes, the person you least suspect will end up becoming your best friend. So, yes, give other people a shot whenever the opportunity comes up- just don't let yourself get frustrated by the first few introductory conversations. Social patience is a skill that takes time to develop.