Seldom experiences rejection I was born a while ago, not as far back as Jesus or the dinosaurs, but close. Whenever I see one of those Facebook memes that read “Type in something that you remember that a young person wouldn’t,” I put in—well, let’s face it, I hardly ever put in anything. I just think, in my kindly, generous way. “Why the hell would I bother with that?”
But if I were to answer, I would probably say, “Waiting for some other person in my family to get off the phone so I could use it.”
See? Old. I even remember when you had absolutely no idea who was calling until you actually picked up the phone and answered it. The horror, eh?
Then came answering machines. You could listen to the person who was calling you start talking on the machine and then leap up off the couch to grab the call, if it was someone you wanted to talk to. The problem with that was, that person now knew you were monitoring your calls, and the next time they called, when you weren’t in, they would yell stuff like “ARE YOU MONITORING YOUR CALLS AGAIN? PICK UP! PICK UP! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!” in such an annoying way that eventually you never wanted to talk to them again.
Then I remember the brief era when your phone, your camera, and your GPS were three different things.
Now I have a smart phone, like everybody else does, and caller ID. When someone calls, I know who they are and whether I want to hear from them, and I have the option of rejecting them by message. These are bland messages like “I’m driving,” or “I’m in the movie theater,” or “I’m in a meeting.” I usually jab at one at random. People can just wonder what I’m doing at the movies at 7 AM.
And I think that’s convenient, but I really wish my rejections were a little punchier. I have six options on my phone now. Here are six better ones:
Think of all the things in the world that are more interesting than you. I’m doing one of them.
If I wanted to hear from you, I’d answer, so don’t text me, either.
I’m sorry I can’t pick up right now. Call me back when I need to have the crap bored out of me.
I’m getting laid.
Your mom wants you to call. I’m not your mom.
And finally, the one I’d use when I would really hate and regret the fact that the caller has my phone number:
Go intercourse yourself!
I'd use it at least once a week. You listening, Samsung?
But if I were to answer, I would probably say, “Waiting for some other person in my family to get off the phone so I could use it.”
See? Old. I even remember when you had absolutely no idea who was calling until you actually picked up the phone and answered it. The horror, eh?
Then came answering machines. You could listen to the person who was calling you start talking on the machine and then leap up off the couch to grab the call, if it was someone you wanted to talk to. The problem with that was, that person now knew you were monitoring your calls, and the next time they called, when you weren’t in, they would yell stuff like “ARE YOU MONITORING YOUR CALLS AGAIN? PICK UP! PICK UP! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!” in such an annoying way that eventually you never wanted to talk to them again.
Then I remember the brief era when your phone, your camera, and your GPS were three different things.
Now I have a smart phone, like everybody else does, and caller ID. When someone calls, I know who they are and whether I want to hear from them, and I have the option of rejecting them by message. These are bland messages like “I’m driving,” or “I’m in the movie theater,” or “I’m in a meeting.” I usually jab at one at random. People can just wonder what I’m doing at the movies at 7 AM.
And I think that’s convenient, but I really wish my rejections were a little punchier. I have six options on my phone now. Here are six better ones:
Think of all the things in the world that are more interesting than you. I’m doing one of them.
If I wanted to hear from you, I’d answer, so don’t text me, either.
I’m sorry I can’t pick up right now. Call me back when I need to have the crap bored out of me.
I’m getting laid.
Your mom wants you to call. I’m not your mom.
And finally, the one I’d use when I would really hate and regret the fact that the caller has my phone number:
Go intercourse yourself!
I'd use it at least once a week. You listening, Samsung?
RSS Feed
