Last month, I sent and received more than 3,500 text messages. That’s an average of 113 messages a day. Granted, I work for a company where SMS is a big part of our business model, but that probably doesn’t account for more than 23 percent of what I wrote or read on my phone last week.
I’m not afraid to admit that I love text messaging. I love it so much I would marry it. And though I’ve learned in the last couple of years not to depend on text too much, and to yikes! actually make a phone call when I have something important to say, I still favor maintaining conversations 160 characters at a time.
That’s it: 160 characters. That’s all you have. Including spaces. This paragraph is exactly 160 characters. But I can tell entire stories on this little canvas.
It’s like Haiku for the modern age. I have a black belt in T9.
I use SMS in many different ways—as a knock on the door before making a phone call; as a veiled flirtation when I’m not sure how it’s going to be received; as a way to combat boredom at a long meeting; to let my dad know I’m thinking about him; to quickly share news that can’t wait; to avoid a conversation I don’t want to have in person.
That last one is a toughie, and I’ve become much better at just making the phone call. In the early days of text (what is that, four years ago?), I relied on it way too often to communicate—it was a crutch I used to avoid confrontation. I’m actually pretty embarrassed about some of my bad texting decisions. But, as with any new form of communication (and does anyone think it’s weird that sending the written word is somehow a cutting edge form of communicating in the 21st century? Isn’t text messaging kind of a step back, in some ways? Like telegrams?), mistakes were made, lessons were learned. Mostly.
Everyone has a system for managing cellphone contacts. Me? I’m a deleter. I don’t trust myself in a moment of weakness (or after three martinis) not to text someone I shouldn’t. So the second I realize that sending a text to a particular person will only end in my humiliation or embarrassment, I delete the number. I used to have a backup, where I could save those contacts, just in case. But my crappy new Samsung doesn’t work that way, so once that number is gone, it’s really gone. Some of the time, I’ll make a mental note of the last four digits of the phone number (the single mom I fell for in the early days is 2311. The Bombshell is 5400), so ambush is less likely. I’m not proud of my system, but it’s better than sending an “I miss you” message to someone who has moved on and feeling like a dumbass when I don’t get back the response I really want.
Because, the thing is, I can lay my soul bare in a 160 characters. Especially if I’m:
1. heartbroken
2. angry and frustrated
3. plowed
4. smitten
So, I’ve found, it’s better to take that temptation away. I deleted a number, fairly recently, and though I’ve been sad a few times about not being able to make contact, I’m relieved at how many bullets I’ve dodged by not standing in the middle of the roller-coaster tracks.
I love how SMS has worked its way into the social fabric. The scenes repeat themselves again and again, and I can’t help laughing when I see them:
1. They’re eating dinner in a nice restaurant. He gets up from the table to go to the bathroom, and the second he walks away, she pulls out her phone to text someone. Meanwhile, in the bathroom, the guy is taking a leak with one hand and texting with the other.
2. Four best friends are sitting at Peet’s with their double-tall non-fat sugar-free vanilla lattés. Three of them are texting while one is answering an email on her Blackberry.
3. I am driving on the highway behind someone who suddenly slows way down and starts to drift between lanes a little bit. When I’m finally able to slip by in the right lane, I notice she’s trying to steer and thumb-text a response at the same time (okay, this one doesn’t make me laugh).
It’s been a few years since I wrote my “Rules for Online Dating,” which, for some reason, still gets a ton of hits every month. So, today, I present:
Rules for Text Messaging
1. DO NOT break off a relationship via text. It’s lame, it’s cowardly, and it makes you seem like a sixth grader.
Exceptions: No matter how much you try, you can’t get the other person to respond via phone to your voice messages or other attempts to engage in conversation; she/he started the breakup process that way, and it’s just down to you letting go; your phone is about to die and you don’t have your charger with you (just kidding).
2. Don’t freak out and text seven more messages when you don’t hear back from the first one you sent right away.
I can think of about 14 reasons someone, who may really want to respond to you, might not reply in a timely manner: phone service is spotty; the text to/from you was delayed in transit; he/she is in the midst of a long conversation/meeting/emergency; the recipient needs some time to process and respond.
3. On the other hand, don’t put off replying to someone’s text, if you can help it. It’s just not fair.
Look—you don’t even have to respond to the subject of the text itself. Even an “I’m swamped and will text back when I can,” or “I’m not sure how I feel about this, give me some time,” –type of message will do wonders for the peace of mind of the person who wrote to you. It lets that person know you actually received the SMS (meaning you shouldn’t get repeat messages, and it’ll save you from receiving a follow-up phone call you’d rather avoid), it respects that person’s desire for communication, and it buys you time. We’ve all been on the receiving end of waiting to hear back from someone we’ve texted, and it sucks. Be considerate—we’d all rather receive a “got your text, will respond later” than silence.
4. Please don’t text and drive.
I know—I find myself tempted to respond to texts the second they come in, even if I’m doing 73 up the hill into Boulder. And those traffic jams seem like the perfect time to text, which has led to more than one near-rear-ending into the car in front of me. So here’s the rule: if you have to text while you’re in the car, wait until you get to a red light, and your vehicle has come to a full and complete stop. Text away until the person behind you honks because the light is green. Seriously. You thought driving and talking on the phone was dangerous?
5. If you’re going to drink and text, make it interesting.
I’ll admit I don’t mind a “what are you doing” text at one in the morning, but if you’re implying something more than, “I’m bored and I want to have a conversation,” then spice it up a bit. Take a chance and see what happens.
6. Understand the difference between “your” and “you’re.”
I know it’s not a big deal, but it sure would be nice if people stopped screwing this up. It’s just more evidence of the decay of the English language. At one time, I’d hoped that the advent of IM and texting would bring a resurgence of solid written expression. Oh well. Look, I’m not going to judge you if you send me emoticons and use shorthand to express yourself in a hurry (I refuse to do either; I figure, I’m a writer—if I can’t express myself well without depending on shortcuts, it’s all over), but do me a favor and 1) don’t put apostrophes where they don’t belong, and 2) use ur if you’re not going to get the “your” and “you’re” thing differentiated.
7. Don’t try to set up a rendezvous with someone else via text if you’re with me.
I mean, at least make up some pretext to leave the room first.
8. If you drunk text someone by accident, own up to it.
Sure, it’s embarrassing, but a “Um…crap…I’m sorry, that wasn’t meant for you.” is a lot better than not answering at all.
9. Don’t let your kid check your incoming text before you look at it first.
Especially if it’s coming from me. Trust me.
10. Forgive me for that last set of texts.
Feel free to delete them. Now.
I’ll bet you could add two or three SMS rules to this list. Please do so below.
Seriously.
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