Paranoia. Lovely paranoia.
The world of technology breeds it in immeasurable quantities, like bacteria harvesting it's spawn on an unwashed gremlin. Now everyone's hooked up to email, paper, stamps, mobile phones, twitter, blogs, facebook, there's really no excuse for lack of contact. In fact, there is not one of my friends, bitter or twisted enemies, past boyfriends or recent dalliances that I couldn't contact right here, right now...if I wanted to. Even if not directly, I could contact someone...who could contact someone....who could contact them - but only if I wanted to.
And therein lies the crux of it. When you don't get a reply or people drop off the radar, there's no doubt that 99.9% of the time, it'll be down to nothing but personal choice.
Therefore, a lot can be garnered not only from the response itself, but the lack of it or the speed at which it eventually comes. With every person on the street clutching a phone in their grubby mitts or up against their sweaty little ears, it's hard to believe that hours, or even days without a response can be down to anything other than remote indifference to your witty little words. Perhaps they don't know what to say. Maybe they're busy doing something else. But ipso, facto, deffo: with technology, inaction definitely speaks louder than words: (s)he just ain't interested, sunshine.
Unless of course, you're me.
Who, having assured Leeds Bloke multiple times that "No no, of course I'll get in contact, why else would I take your number?", then proceeded (as we discussed yesterday), to forget his name. The next afternoon, I saved a number from my dialled list as 'Leeds Bloke' (what?) and sent a quick text.
Delivery report: Message pending.
(N.B While we're on the subject, delivery reports are the best invention ever. Oh, you didn't get my message? HA! YES YOU DID! SEE? IT'S HERE! DELIVERED! HA!)
Hmmm, looks like he lost his phone. Probably dropped it into a bubbling vat of acid, or plunged it into a puddle of studenty vomit on the way home. Two days pass, and I decide to investigate the matter further, just to be sure.
Well, accidents happen, and here's proof of how well I function after a week of mildly strenuous activity: I'd actually named, then text my voicemail asking how it's hangover was.
Forget remote indifference, I like to think it was just too busy to reply.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
18 comments:
Will you send it an irate follow up message in a week or so?
This is a classic. I used to have lots of random numbers in my phone just like this, when you were too drunk to spell things. I had a clear out a while back, but wish id kept them, random messaging is always fun ;)
P.s i think men like this sort of thing. Maybe youll run into him again?
Haha! Well done! Ace...
PJB - For sure. Something along the lines of "Oi, you intolerable swine. Stop cavorting with the TMobile woman and text me back"
smidge - I think part of the fun is that I probably won't run into him again. In my mind he is a Steve Jones lookalike, which in reality...he probably isn't. But I will never find out either way.
blueskies - Thank you,thank you...I'm here all week.
Ha! Well done. I don't even know how you could manage that.
So now what? Did you ping his REAL number? Remember is name?
Jessica - My mind works in mysterious ways. Something to do with me calling my voicemail, which just comes up as an unnamed number, at 3pm...and the blokes number, which I dialled at 3am...meh. God knows.
Unbearable - Dunno really. Not sure whether to send a little "Oh, guess what stupid thing I did, but see, ha! here's your text!" or just to leave it be...
"Oh, guess what stupid thing I did, but see, ha! here's your text!"
Do this. I've done plenty of stooopid things with my mobile so wouldnt be afraid to quickly do this. Whilst the iron's hot.
Course this was if I was really bothered about getting the ball rolling with `Leeds Bloke'. Which I'm getting the impression (rightly or wrongly) that you're not.
I'm with MOT. Do it. Just for the subsequent post that'll inevitably ensue... ;)
Do it do it do it.
And yes, delivery reports *rock* - although, you can get a bit obsessive - "Why hasn't it delivered? What's happened to his phone? Who has their phone off for that long? Why? Why? Why?"
MOT - Rightly. However, it could serve to keep me entertained.
Blonde - Tell you what. I'll have a few glasses of wine tonight with a friend, and we'll see what happens. It will probably be a wonderful idea at around 10pm tonight.
nuttycow - But being all obsessive about why the phone is turned off is no way as bad as being all obsessive about why they haven't text back. At least with delivery reports you know it's not personal, they just haven't got the message yet, because they're probably err, dead or something. (!?)
I'm going with the flow. Do it!!!
A work colleague has 3 phones. Her work phone, her personal phone and, what I like to call, her Saturday night phone.
Scrolling through the latter reveals it's full of people all called DNA which apparently stands for Do not answer.
You might have dodged a bullet without knowing it.
Ellie - Ever heard of the words "peer pressure"??
ninetynine - Hahaha, I love that. A Saturday night phone. I've got a mate who impliments the 'DNA' approach to storing numbers :D
hahaha! Are you playing hard to get? I thought the Leeds Bloke was a no go because of the Devil Book photos?
Ohhh timetraveller - DO keep up! ;) That was Camden Boy. This is Leeds Bloke. Two different ends of the country, two different weekends.
I'm a fast mover :D
That is very funny indeed. I am chuckling imagining you becoming impatient at the lack of response from your voicemail number! :)
perps - Spot on. I was all baffled with furrowed eyebrows and everything.
Post a Comment