The Old Ball n’ Chain

I was just talking to JanelltheGreat, who was expressing her profound dislike of talking to her potential dates via telephone. Apparently, she’s like the anti-stereotype of the girl who waits by the phone. While some girls nailbitingly pace a trench into the rug while staring at their shiny little, new-age portable communication device; she’s sitting quietly at her worktable, staring at the phone and daring it to make a sound so she can bash it into tiny little bits with whatever large blunt object might be handy.

As wierd (and somewhat disturbing) as this imaginary visual might be, the truth is that I find myself on the verge of agreeing with her point of view. At the very least, I’m sympathetic.

In this day and age, it’s pretty commonplace to assume that everyone can be reached at all times, because most people can be. (With the obvious exception of people who live at the North Pole, Antarctica, or some very isolated parts of Africa. Also people on the T-Mobile network.)

It’s sad, but that seems to have created this cultural assumption that the possibility of you answering your phone every time you’re called is an absolute given. Unfortunately, by that logic, the great sin of NOT answering your phone (no matter what you happen to be doing at the time, it seems) actually becomes a type of snub to the person calling, whether intentional or not.

This pretty much blows, because people essentially expect you to drop whatever you’re doing just because of the availability of easy technology.

I have a friend who is currently ROYALLY pissed off at me for not calling her on her birthday this last week (though it was finals week, and I forget it every year to boot… yet still, she’s angry? I’ll never understant women). And now she’s even MORE mad because I haven’t called to properly apologize, even though the only time I’ve been concious this week is when I’ve been at work, when the rest of the human population is sleeping. (I work graves, it’s a long story.)

Sigh… remember the “good ol’ days”? Those times circa Meet Me in St. Louis when a friend or love interest would call you several days in advance just to say they’re going to call you for a chat at a later date? And then they’d ask what time would be best for you? I miss that.

I also miss the times where dashing young guys would randomly show up as your date for the Annual Winter Ball wearing a tuxedo with tails and sweep you off your feet during the last song of the evening. (Though, admittedly, I would’ve preferred a little more effort towards the timely.) I miss the days when there were Balls. …The dancing kind. Where people danced.

Man, there’s just no backing out of that one, is there?

Y’know what? I’m just gonna go with it. Balls. He he.

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