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I’m not a big fan of niceties. You know, the hellos/how are yous/how’s it goings. It’s one thing to be genuinely interested the welfare/going-ons of a person you care about. It’s another thing altogether to put on a show of politeness when you secretly hope the person will leave as quickly as their fleet little feet will carry them.

But while I’m not a big fan of social pretense, I have learned its value under many circumstances. I have seen social experts wield civility like a broadsword, cutting a swath through a crowd of well-wishers to push on without looking rude. I have seen civility come from a genuine place of concern for strangers. It can defuse a tense situation, worsen a uncomfortable silence, and signal the end of an exchange. In the right hands, it is an all-powerful weapon. In the inept hands, it can be a disaster.

I learned the art of social nicety from a woman at my synagogue before I was old enough to truly appreciate her craftsmanship. She worked you with the “hello, how are yous” and had moved on to another congregant before you had time to so much as say “I am fine.” But so delicate was her approach, that you still had the wisp of a smile on your face even as she walked away.

When I was younger, even into my early twenties, I never really understood the function of social grace. When I asked someone “how was your weekend?” it was because I wanted to know what they did over the weekend. If I didn’t want to hear about your weekend, I just never brought it up. When I said “thank you” to someone, it was because they did something for me for which I was thankful. I used “how are you?” even more sparingly. I could count on two hands the number of people whom I would care about how they answered that question. The inverse of that was when people asked me “how are you?” I inevitably told them exactly how I was.  I naively assumed they wanted to know.

At restaurants, and really in any customer service endeavor, it is typically incumbent on the waiter to keep up the facade of politeness. I appreciate the ones who can maintain a semblance of manners without pushing the boundaries into pretense. Because while I think courtesy is an important aspect of customer service (especially for those courting tips), if you ask me “how was your meal?” you best be prepared to hear the real answer.

More than once, I shocked a server by answering truthfully, “Yeah, it wasn’t very good.” More often than not, the server is surprised to hear it. I don’t believe that what I said was interpreted as an insult so much that in saying so, I destroyed any pretense that we all just friends, hanging out, eating and drinking. Instead, you’re a waiter, I’m the customer and this meal sucks.

Social pretense is a square dance. Everyone learns their steps, and then cuts from partner to partner using the moves to keep the dance going. Someone steps on a toe, forgets the next step, or is just clumsy, it throws the entire arrangement out of whack. But whether it’s flawless or not, the dancers move across the stage in an endless sequence of sets.

All of this also applies just as much to the office. It’s made more imperative because these are people you see every single day for years. You can build relationships through niceties and destroy ties just as easily. That was a tough lesson for me. I can be unfailingly polite when I set my mind to it, but it was years in the workforce before it became rote to mind my please and thank yous and greet everyone with a “hi, how are you?” But unlike the waiter, I genuinely come to like most of the people I work with. And the ones I don’t like, I still can’t bring myself to offer more than a perfunctory “hey, what’s up?” as I’m walking by, keeping my fleet feet moving so as to avoid any implication that an answer is required.

It would be easier, of course, if we could just say what’s on our minds, which in all likelihood would diminish social pretense and probably wipe out please and thank you altogether. But if there is one thing I have learned, it’s that niceties serve an important function of keeping the dance moving, whether we mean the nice things or not.