Sunday, January 04, 2009

http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,23414957-2,00.html

One feature of Christmas and the New Year was a scattering of mystery Merry Textmas and New Year messages which would bleep onto my phone over the course of the week. There are only a few people who text me with any regularity whose numbers I don’t keep on my phone – work colleagues, non-immediate family members, and beautiful women mainly, the sort of people I want to protect myself from thinking it would be a really good idea to text at four in the morning when I am drunk – but I was able to sleuth that it wasn’t any of them. My phonebook – like my Facebook friend list – is prone to a cull every few months, as part of my philosophy that I don’t really ever need more than about forty people’s numbers, and if someone is the sort of person I’m not likely to contact for a year or more, chances are they’ll have changed their number by then, anyway.

Looking at these texts, they’re always very non-specific and wit-free, making me think someone somewhere - some long-forgotten casual acquiantence - has pressed the “send to all” function on their phone (the text round robin equivalent). In each case, my response was to send of a reply which dripped with something which, depending which angle you tilted your head at, was either sarcasm or sincerity (so good to hear from you again. May 2009 be matched only by your wildest dreams). Not a single one was responded to, making me think that the someone somewhere was thinking “Jesus, why did he bother to reply?”

4 comments:

Chris Cope said...

I don't think I have your phone number, else one of those shotgun generic texts would have been from me.

Chris said...

Yeah, I had a similar experience. The language always just on the right side of generic to protect them. I do have their numbers however, and almost all of them were sent by insecure, witless people I've been trying to avoid. You know, the ones who equate facebook friendships with real world friendships, and probably keep count....

Huw said...

Chris Cope: it would have been most welcome. I look forward to this year's.

Chris: Oooh, biting. I suspect mine were from temporarily half-known people - like those who I lived next to in halls, whose numbers I needed if a Kings Cross crackhead had infiltrated the building - yet to delete me.

Shane said...

You hit a nail on a head. I always feel a bit bad for thinking, 'Oh, that's a bit sad', as I receive ludicrously elated texts from people I rarely see, (whispers) or think about.