IMO No.12: Small Talk Is a Disease. Cannabis Might Be the Cure.
Disclaimer: This article is not intended to diagnose, treat, or cure your unbearable coworker, your cousin who talks exclusively about CrossFit, or the guy at parties who thinks "So what do you do?" is a personality. Side effects of cannabis may include belly laughs, prolonged eye contact, and the realization that you actually like people. Use responsibly.
There are few things more soul-draining than getting cornered at a party by someone who wants to tell you what they do for a living before they even ask your name. You know the type. Polished. Probably wearing a blazer. Or, if you’re in the creative crowd, a hoodie that costs more than your car payment. They’re not really there to connect. They’re there to network. To exchange business cards. To pitch. To be seen.
And look, I get it. We’ve all played the game. We live in a society that rewards the elevator pitch, the LinkedIn flex, the perfectly curated conversation that goes absolutely nowhere deep. But let’s be honest: small talk is a disease. A social virus passed hand-to-hand at baby showers, happy hours, and company retreats. And the worst part? We’ve normalized it. We’ve convinced ourselves that this is just what adult interaction looks like. Safe. Polite. Shallow as a sidewalk puddle.
But here’s the thing: humans aren’t built for small talk. We’re built for real connection. Big talk. Messy talk. Vulnerable talk. The kind that happens when the masks come off and the walls come down. And in my experience, nothing helps those masks melt and those walls crumble quite like cannabis.
Cannabis, the Conversation Catalyst
When you get a few people together and pass around a well-chosen joint, something shifts. The tempo changes. The need to posture evaporates. Instead of asking, “What do you do?” someone says, “What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?” Or, “When’s the last time you cried in public?” Suddenly, we’re not networking. We’re relating.
Cannabis doesn’t just slow things down. It softens the edges. It gives people permission to be a little more curious, a little more honest. And not in the tequila-truth-serum way, where boundaries dissolve and oversharing becomes a performance. Cannabis invites sincerity. It makes room for listening. It punctures the performative fluff and gets to the good stuff faster.
You don’t even have to be high to feel it. Just being in a space where cannabis is part of the atmosphere changes the social script. People expect something different from the interaction. They’re less guarded. More open. Because cannabis, at its best, doesn’t just change your state of mind. It changes the tone of the room.
The Death of Authenticity in a Hyperconnected Age
Here’s the irony: we live in the most connected era in human history, and people are lonelier than ever. We can DM someone across the world in seconds, but somehow, we can’t maintain eye contact at a dinner party. Our social muscles have atrophied. We've traded depth for speed, nuance for brevity, intimacy for algorithms.
Enter cannabis. Not as a miracle cure, but as a tool. A reminder. A reset button. When you host a gathering where cannabis is present—intentionally, thoughtfully, respectfully—you’re signaling that this isn’t your average social affair. You're inviting people to show up a little differently. To slow down. To share. To actually be there.
Think about the last time you really connected with someone. I mean really. Not because of a shared job title or a mutual friend, but because something in you recognized something in them. That spark? That’s what we’re chasing. That’s what cannabis can help unlock.
Dex Parties: An Experiment in Anti-Small-Talk Socializing
At Dexter, we started hosting cannabis-forward gatherings (we call them Dex Parties) precisely because we were tired of the usual social dance. We didn’t want to throw another event where people awkwardly sip cocktails and cling to their plus-ones like emotional support animals. We wanted connection. Texture. Moments.
So we designed experiences where cannabis was part of the hospitality offering, not the main event. We curated the setting—music, lighting, food, flow—to encourage mingling and vulnerability. And you know what? People leaned in. Conversations deepened. Strangers became friends.
It didn’t take much. A joint here, a low-dose edible there, a quiet patio with some blankets and low lighting. No pressure to partake, no judgment either way. Just a subtle invitation to connect on a different level. And the results? Intoxicating—in the best way.
Why Small Talk Thrives (And How We Can Kill It)
Small talk survives because we’re scared. Scared of saying the wrong thing. Scared of being too much. Scared of being rejected for showing our weird, wonderful, vulnerable selves. So we armor up with the weather forecast and our latest work project and the latest Netflix binge.
But what if we weren’t scared? What if we were in a setting that said, "Hey, it’s okay to be real here."
Cannabis, when used intentionally, can help create that setting. It quiets the ego just enough to let the soul speak. It makes it okay to admit you don’t know something, or to ask a question that might otherwise feel too intimate.
Small talk thrives on autopilot. Cannabis interrupts that autopilot.
What Authentic Socializing Looks Like
- Two people on a porch, passing a joint and talking about childhood dreams.
- A group of new friends comparing their favorite snacks and laughing so hard they cry.
- Someone saying, “I’ve never told anyone this before...” and trusting that they’ll be met with kindness.
- People actually listening to each other. Not waiting for their turn to speak, not mentally checking out while scrolling through a phone, but being present. Fully.
Authentic socializing isn’t about being impressive. It’s about being human. Cannabis helps us remember how.
A Note on Responsibility
This isn’t to say cannabis is some magic fix. Like anything, it requires intention and context. Not everyone reacts the same way, and not every strain or method is right for every moment. But when approached thoughtfully, cannabis can be one of the most powerful social tools in our kit.
It’s also worth saying: this isn’t about getting high and getting sloppy. This is about creating environments where people feel safe to go a little deeper. To loosen the tie—literally and metaphorically—and show up as their whole selves.
The Bigger Picture
In a world drowning in curated content and performative everything, what people are craving—aching for—is authenticity. And cannabis, bless its little green heart, can be a bridge back to that.
It helps us lower the volume on the performance and tune into what’s real. Not just within ourselves, but in each other. It reminds us that behind the jobs and the social media and the masks, we are just humans, trying our best to feel seen and understood.
So yeah, small talk might still be part of the world we live in. But it doesn’t have to be part of every space we create. Not if we’re intentional. Not if we use the tools available to us. Not if we pass the joint, ask better questions, and stay long enough to hear the answers.
Cannabis might not be the cure for everything, but when it comes to small talk? It just might be the antidote we’ve been looking for.
Coming Up Next…
IMO No.13: Smoking With Intention: A Lost Art?
In next week’s edition, we’ll dive into the rituals and mindfulness that once made smoking cannabis an art form—and how we might reclaim that slow, intentional experience in a fast-paced world.
Stay tuned.
