Tonight, I'm meeting up with an old friend for happy hour. We've known each other since our formidable years, back when she had braces and I was playing the flute in the school band. Yet, despite all of our years of friendship, going through middle school, high school, and eventually college, the inner introvert in me still sort of dreads the plan this evening. Why? Because she's dating a new boyfriend.
I'll have to put on my extrovert face and play small talk again, chit-chatting about our respective jobs and what we like to do for fun. Catching up with an old friend may be the dream happy hour rotation for many socialites, but for an introvert, it simply presents some new, clever opportunity for idle chatter, forgotten names, and the lingering urge to rush back home and put pajamas on.
Alas, it's our social duty to leap out into the unknown, hoping we'll remember simple social cues and pleasantries, because there's no real escape from the daunting public, unless you let your introverted tendencies take control, move you out to the forest, and live in a moderate cabin far away from society.