I once accidentally flushed a cell phone down the toilet. It fell out of my pocket after I already flushed, and the toilet at UMASS had a strong current. A year later, I tripped over the charging cord, and my month old iPhone fell and cracked. I used it until it stopped working. Recently, on my fake Blackberry lookalike, I tried to type out a text, hit one button and a bunch of other letters popped up.
I’m not sure I’m supposed to have a cell phone.
I’m an old fashioned girl.
I like hand written thank you notes, letters, or, if necessary, a well crafted email. There’s even a mini-booth in my apartment for an old fashioned telephone. On good days I imagine myself standing there, in my hallway, while my (non-existent) chef is cooking me dinner. In reality, I stand there and talk to family and friends while my phone is charging.
I mean, I get why everybody loves cell phones. If you’re stuck at the side of the road, it’s nice to call someone for help. If you’re running late and can’t find parking, you can tell your friends. I’ve learned something important however: when I don’t have a cell phone, I have no choice but to show up everywhere on time. I was forced to be a woman of my word.
Phones these days are mini computers, with email and gps and cameras and face time and whatnot. They dazzle. Smartphones are longing to be touched. Their screens are so bright! But so often they remove everyone–myself included–from leaning into and enjoying the moment.
When I’m out at a bar, talking or texting on my cell phone, people leave me alone. Because I’m already “taken,” right? There is someone who is willing to communicate with me, which means that I’m not lonely. And nobody wants to interrupt a conversation.
But try sitting by yourself at a bar and not reaching for your cell phone. Even if you’re reading a book, people always approach by asking, “what are you reading?”
(And by people, I mean men who try to pick me up. Y’all know the deal.)
Whenever this happens, I end up meeting either a great guy, or a terrible guy, but either way it leads to a good story. I only pull out my phone when it’s time for us to exchange information.
Being attached or too dependent on a phone in a social settings means that you’re missing out on the interesting lives of the people around you. Even the most BORING people on the face of the planet have an interesting perspective or story about something. And if the party is boring…well, make the party a happening place!
Be the life of the party. My girls and I do it all the time.
The slight problem with my disdain for cell phones is that infrequent use makes it impossible for me to make new friends or date properly in the 21st century. I’m terrible at texting. Today I took 7 hours to respond to a text. 7! Somewhere a 13 year old is screaming at the thought. I regularly leave my phone at home or in my car.
So nobody calls me. Or texts me.
Except for, occasionally, my mother. And one of my best friends, who is always texting to schedule tea.
Men are extraordinarily impatient with my silence. One of them interpreted it as rejection, and didn’t buy the truth: my phone is always on silent because I’m always doing something important–spending face to face time with a friend, going to the gym, cooking, reading a book, doing research.
He wasn’t very understanding.
No phone: more interesting face-face interactions!
Cell Phone: somewhat dull text messages, punctuated by a good phone call every once in a while if I’m lucky.
Does anyone have a house phone anymore?
That might be the right fit for me: a house phone, with a long cord, so I can keep an eye on dinner and talk at the same time.
extra nerd points if you know what film this still is from!
Be friendly (or, stop texting at bars + meet the person of your dreams!),