Do I Sound Desperate?

April 30, 2010

Yesterday, during my lunch-hour, I was texting my cousin about hanging out later in the evening.  I asked her to meet me at Yats and we’d decide where to go from there.

When I got back to the office, I had another message from her.

Polkadots: Haha yes i can meet at yats. I am walking into lunch. Call u in a bit?

I thought, Why would she need to call me?

I began typing that I’d probably not be by my phone.  Then I caught sight of something awry above her message.  Ghastly strings of nonsense.  My horror dawned like giant monster eyes over the horizon line of a five-year-old’s bed—the phone said it was from me:

Me: Can you talk now? Can you pick up? Call me: Email me: Can you talk now? Email me: Can you pick up? Call me: Call me: Call me: Email me: Email me:

Isn’t butt-texting one of the early signs of dementia?  Another rite of passage.  Somehow, they’re not as enjoyable now.


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