I went to the drinks once

I’ve been told, more than once, that I should join the team for drinks sometime. So one time I did. I showed up and made small talk about things I didn’t care about with people I barely knew. It felt like work. Unpaid work. I left early and I didn’t go back.

This gets read as unfriendliness, and I’ve made peace with that. I can collaborate with people I’d never see socially. I’ve worked well with people whose politics I disagree with and whose humor misses me entirely. We were professional, we were decent to each other, and the work got done. Nothing about that required a shared weekend.

The friendships that did come out of work happened on their own. One coworker became like a sister over years and several companies. Our families know each other. Decades later we still find each other when we cross paths. Nobody scheduled that. It grew because it wanted to.

What I resist is the arithmetic where karaoke attendance counts toward belonging, where opportunities go to whoever bonded during the smoke break, and where “we’re a family here” turns out to mean you owe the company the tolerance you’d extend to a sibling. It’s a workplace. I’d rather be chosen for my work. I bond where it comes naturally and I keep the rest of my life to myself.