Introverts Are Not All the Same—Especially in Socializing Needs

When it comes to social events like “happy hour,” introverts are not all the same. For some, happy hour is an easy, near-automatic no. For others, it’s a tougher call.

My wife, Adrianne, sees herself as an extroverted sort of introvert, and she is.

If introversion is a mixed drink, Adrianne’s drink sometimes has a little extra extrovert thrown in to spice things up a bit.

It all depends on her mood, though, along with her fatigue level and a host of other factors.

I, on the other hand, see myself as an introverted sort of introvert, and I am.

My introversion cocktail almost always features a double-shot of introvert to solidify the taste.

And that tends to be that. There is rarely any “it depends.”

How does this distinction play out for us in real life?

Well, speaking of drinks … let’s talk about happy hour.

Happy Hour Doesn’t Guarantee Happiness

My wife is one of those special saints known as a kindergarten teacher. You can only imagine the energy she expends each day as she addresses children’s difficulties, both real and imagined.

She has to actually deal with “he’s looking at me,” “I have to go to the bathroom,” and an assortment of other emergencies every minute, making dozens of quick decisions in the process. She is on constantly.

I go in to the school on occasion to help volunteer, and I’m toast in two hours flat. I don’t even know how Adrianne—or her colleagues—stay alive. Or sane.

So it’s not surprising to me that Adrianne is herself toast by many a Thursday night.

This past Thursday night was no different—except that her colleagues had invited her to go to happy hour with them after work the next day.

And she had no idea what to do.

An Easy Decision for an Introverted Introvert

Now, happy hour is an easy-to-dismiss oxymoron to an introverted introvert like me.

I know with certainty, well ahead of time—I could give you my answer a year in advance—that I will not at all be happy spending an hour (or more) in a bar or restaurant surrounded by loud music and a din of voices that drown out any possible meaningful conversation I could have with someone.

I will never be happy during happy hour.

Unless it gets moved to the coffee shop, and I can sit there drinking a latte by myself and reading a good book.

Ahh. Now, that’s happy hour.

Otherwise, no thanks.

Easy decision. A no-brainer for an introverted introvert like me.

A Tough Call for an Extroverted Introvert

Adrianne, on the other hand, was conflicted about whether to go to happy hour, which made her even more stressed than she already was.

She wasn’t torn by some sense of obligation. No, this was real.

Half of her, almost literally, desperately wanted to take part and hang out with her colleagues in a non-work setting, perhaps trading war stories or, even better, talking about anything but work and kids.

But the other half of her knew she would pay a price for going to happy hour, even if she had the time of her life; that she’d be more exhausted afterward than she was going in. And that there would be no guarantee that the weekend in our busy family would bring any real opportunity for her to recharge her batteries. Not completely, at least.

So Adrianne had yet another decision to make—a hard one—after yet another day already filled with them.

And in some ways it was a no-winner for an extroverted introvert like her.