Happy Hour

I am not a social person. I am the kind of person who, after work, skips changing into casual clothing in favor of donning pajamas. (Unless I plan to go for a walk...then I might go ahead and put on jeans and a t-shirt since I haven't quite reached the level of eccentricity where I feel comfortable roaming the city streets in my robe.) So, this makes it all the more remarkable that last night I willingly...nay gladly...joined a group of co-workers for some after hours socializing.

It was a simple affair, a means to celebrate the birthdays of two co-workers. We had planned to hit Brio, an Italian place, but it seemed like the rest of Kansas City had the same idea. With a remarkable lack of fuss, we quickly decided on an alternative location and settled at our table for an evening of conversation and camaraderie. For most everyone else, this would probably seem typical, even boring, but in many ways, I was fascinated. While the conversations were some of your typical banter among a group of young professionals (ok, maybe not so much...but again, not having much to compare it to, for all I know discussing dance-offs, past romantic conquests and each other's children with an amazing number of insults flying back and forth and a decent amount of gossip thrown in is the norm), it felt like I was indulging in something more.

My strong need for solitude often prevents me from seeing much beyond the walls I have built to protect myself from intrusion. I am very selective about who I allow in, and even from them, I hold things back. If I let people get too close, I fear I will be vulnerable to future hurt later on...yes, even by co-workers.  Better to be impervious and never let anyone get close than experience pain later on. Silly, I know, but nowhere near as ridiculous as the realization that here were six people whom I have seen every day for the past three months (even longer, really, but only in the past three months have we sat together so closely), and my knowledge about them, their lives, their families, etc. was seriously lacking.

One of the reasons I agreed to come out last night was to learn more about these people for whom I have a great deal of respect. Perhaps I thought a glass of beer may help break through some of the mortar (yes, one beer is all it takes any more to loosen me up a bit) and quash my natural shyness enough to let my guard down. While the beer did have a strange soporific effect, I cannot say that at the end of the night, I was best friends with all of them, planning future happy hours for weeks to come. I can say, though, that as I listened to the conversations, I definitely achieved my goal of learning more about each of them (some details I could have lived without ever hearing...), adding the shades of depth I had been ignoring. Amazing how much more interesting people are when you no longer view them as flat characterizations.

I also felt a slight spark of passion for work reignite. As cheesy as it sounds, if I can connect with the people I work with, I am more inclined to stick around doing something that doesn't always fulfill me a while longer. At the very least, it makes the day pass more quickly when you can participate in all the barbs flying back and forth over the cubicle walls. And right now, finding these kinds of connections are pretty important to maintaining sanity.

How do you connect with others? Are you like me, loath to connect with others out of fear or shyness, so you keep it to a minimum or are you someone compelled to learn anything and everything about someone within the first five minutes of meeting them?