Texting Nightmares

The omnipresence of mobile or cellular communication is here. My beef is with text messaging. Originally I was a fan of this. It was easier to renege on social commitments because you never heard the disappointment in the voice of the reneged. A relationship of convenience could be swiftly severed with a detached text as soon as it became inconvenient. Texting is a cheaper option on many packages and can be done without interrupting a lecture, a meeting, the audience at the cinema or the theatre. However what a quagmire of uncertainty it can be.

Everyone has either sent or received a text message and as soon as the beeping or disappearing envelope exits the screen, paranoia sets in. The inability to have a completely clear textual relationship with someone, particularly a new ‘romantic acquaintance’ is a major source of anxiety for the texters of today. The message sent and the receiver (R) begins to play the texting dating game.

(R) I don’t reply immediately lest I appear desperate. I don’t reply with too great a time lapse as to appear disinterested.

The sender (S) is wondering why there is no reply.

(S) Is she asleep? Not at 3pm. Why did I send a text at 3pm I should have waited till later. Maybe she is on the on the phone and can’t reply. But who is on the phone for this long. Jesus! She probably has another guy. Maybe it’s her mother. It could be anyone. Let’s just wait.

(R) Okay time to reply. He is probably a little anxious.

Send…Beep!

(S) Sweet providence! Oh yes I knew she would reply and it is quite a sassy little text. (Caught up in the moment he taps his fingers away and sends a response and new ‘topic question’. Instantly burning anxiety engulfs (S) in flames).

Send…Beep!

(R) Beep, so soon. What’s wrong with this guy? A response to a closed text – the fool. How can I take this guy seriously? Wanker!

Sender has waited for hours now and has called at least two friends for advice. He has sweated more than Eugene Terre’ Blanche stumbling into a Black Panther’s meeting. He has tried self-delusion declaring his interest was never there. Silently lamenting his texting eagerness, he yells inside: Why was I not text tardy? Why?

Beep!

(S) Hope returns! She likes me, oh I knew it. And she is so perfect.

He opens the message to read: will you be home for dinner? Luv mum x