I don’t understand people who like chatting on the phone. My own anti-social tendencies aside, talking on the phone is one of my least favorite things to do, regardless of who I’m talking to. As you both know, I’m much more likely to reply to an email or text than ever pick up my phone. Now, don’t get me wrong—there are times when calling is both useful and efficient. If I have something to say that would either be tedious and long to type out, I’ll gladly use the telephone. I have no problem with telephone calls under, say, 10 minutes; any issue you can’t resolve, or thought you can’t convey in under 10 minutes probably should be done over the phone anyway. Really, anything longer than that time period changes from conveying information to narrating your mundane life in real-time.
Example: People who stay on their phones when they’re ordering food. Not only are you making a statement to the food service employee that they’re not important enough for your full attention, but you’re also making whoever you’re talking to suffer through your order at Chipotle. Personally, I’d say “Call me back after you’re done, asshole” but then again, I’m sure like begets like, and the person at the other end of that line is two streets over, at a 5 Guys.
Maybe I’m just a considerate, efficient, thoughtful, handsome outlier, but I don’t see how talking for hours is justifiable. You know who I blame? Goddamn phone companies. Remember when “Minutes” and “Talk Time” meant anything to anyone? Those were the days; People called, you talked, you disconnected; and if you hung up and the timer read “0:59” you did a little happy dance. Oh what I wouldn’t give for my old Nokia 5190. It had a lightning bolt faceplate, and like 200 minutes. A year.
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