After roughly 22 years of experiences, observations and constantly developing conclusions from the former and latter, there are many social situations that I’ve learned to manipulate in order to effectively communicate with others. A great example of this is small talk with complete strangers.

Pick a venue. Let’s go with a grocery store. According to company policy, the checker must be generically outgoing, just like any member of the standardized workforce. This provides a great opportunity to put my unorthodox conversational skills to the test, pushing the boundaries of the employee’s comfort zone with dialog-based conduct while on the clock.

Sometimes I like to throw verbal curveballs, so my response to the banal question of “how is your day?” may from time to time consist of, “I’m dying, faster than you, but far slower than her.”

This caustic jab at the general concept of small talk is likely to go unnoticed by most laborers. However, the cognizant teller at this fictitious bank will sincerely appreciate the honesty and dark humor.

Regrettably, this is not the case in most scenarios. It takes a truly sadistic mind to appreciate such abrasive behavior from a stranger in a marginally formal work environment, especially in such tumultuous times, where we must forget that the PG&E-owned light at the end of the tunnel is maintained by a skeletal selection of blue collar workers, petrified of becoming part of the unemployment rate.

Knowing this, I do not always treat strangers with the lack of dignity that MTV bestows upon their demographic often too thickly to realize that their programs severely insult viewers’ intelligence. I prefer leaving an encounter with a stranger on an enigmatic, yet thought-provoking note.

Recently, while cashing my $94.71 paycheck at Wells Fargo that I graciously receive every two weeks, I was engaging in small talk with a female teller around my age. At the end of the transaction, she mentioned that she was tired, and I took this as an opportunity to say, “Well, everyone’s tired of something,” and cunningly walked out, hoping to leave a mysterious but intriguing impression.

There’s a strange sense of satisfaction that comes to life by simply conversing with strangers as if they were friends. I’ve had far too many cookie cutter conversations with servers, then felt disgusted at giving them the 15 percent gratuity that they expected.

I suppose that’s the direction that our society is going. Everything is mass produced, compromising quality for quantity. Excessive population could be one credible explanation. The standardization of products, entertainment and other material goods has depersonalized the contemporary American culture, which ironically takes pride in diversity and the acceptance of individualism.

Now, stuck in this paradox, as people of this society, we can make the conscious decision to have a personality and share it with others. If we don’t, true identity may become obsolete. So in public, I’m going to be myself and not feel even a microgram of guilt, regardless of who I’m talking to, and I suggest that others do the same. I mean really, what do you have to lose?