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?”
5 weeks ago