Aw shit, yes I probably am...
Anyway, here's a conversation I seem to find myself in all too often these days:
"I don't text."
"Whaddaya mean, you don't text?"
"I don't believe in it."
"Whaddaya mean you don't believe in it?"
You might recognize that I cast myself in the iconic "Mr. Pink" role from "Reservoir Dogs" to make my point.
However, I DO tip. Generously. So this analogy stops well short of the tipping issue.
Look, it's really quite simple. I don't do text. I hate texting. In fact, I've blocked it from even being received by my phone, because the plan I have charges me 20 cents for every text I get, whether I read it or not. I eventually had Sprint put a block on all texts coming to my cell phone.
Yes, I'm aware I can probably get a cost-efficient plan that includes all the texting I'd ever want to do. But since I don't want to do any texting, my plan already includes "none texting". Free of charge!
I know that in this day and age it's expected that a somewhat technophiliac like myself will take part in this relatively recent innovation in personal communications, but I prefer not to. And I have a list of good reasons for it:
1) It's very intrusive and encourages all manner of nonsense. Read almost anyone's Twitter feed and you'll see what I mean. I couldn't give a solid shit what you just ate for lunch; and I couldn't possibly care less about whatever cute thing your stupid cat is doing right now, unless it's in the process of being run over by a garbage truck on a gravel road.
In that case, feel free to call me with the good news.
(Because apparently I hate texting so much, I hope everyone who texts me will lose a beloved pet in some horrific manner. Hey, I never claimed to possess a fair, or even remotely humane sense of proportion.)
2) It annoys the fuck out of me when I'm speaking to someone face to face and they suddenly whip out their little keyboard phone thingy and start thumbing the keys like a mental case. Look, whatever it is you're replying to can't possibly be more imperative than what I was just in the process of telling you. I know that sounds kind of self-important, but hey, this is me we're talking about here.
3) Let's face it. I know in my heart if I become addicted to texting, it'll only be a matter of time before I plow into the back of a school bus at seventy miles per. Apparently I make a habit of driving on local suburban lanes at roughly three times the legal limit. Driving that fast is hard enough, so I sure don't need to add texting to the distraction of scanning through the songs on my mp3 player.
Here's the deal: if whatever it is you have for me is so goddamned important, just call me on my cell, or shoot me a quick email. Or you can even write it down on a piece of paper, wrap it around a brick, and hurl it through my living room window. Whatever works best for you.
So please, stop asking me if I got your text.
...but your cat had better be real careful!