Friday, March 17, 2006

Can’t Come To The Phone Right Now

“Hey babe, it’s (insert name). I’m just calling to see what you’re up to…maybe see if you want to grab drinks later in the week. Well, hope all is well. Give me buzz when you get a chance, take care.”

Done. Perfect, not too much, not too long, and no useless rambling…the perfect message. When calling the special someone, why is it as soon as the ‘sound of the tone’ is heard, we get a little anxious, a little nervous to leave a stupid voicemail. Is it because we really don’t like the pressure or just because we really like the person we’re leaving some choice words for?

I like to think I’m a very good message leaver. I mean, I don’t go in with a script. I just shoot from the hip and hope something worth while comes out. I’m sure we have all left a few horrific ones, especially if they happen after 1am after a drink or ten. Taking those out of consideration, why is it that after we leave a voicemail for someone we’re interested in, we immediately start to question the return call. If and when will she call back? Will she wait a while, play the game if you will…Or will he or she call back before you’ve placed your phone back in your pocket?

I think the best post phone call – voicemail action is to leave it alone. You’ve done you’re part, the ball is in their court (how about that basketball reference in the middle of March Madness) and you can only hope for the best. However for some reason, I think it’s human nature to still sit in wonder in the back of your mind. Did I call to late, should I not have left message, or should I have sent her a text instead of leaving a message? All of these come running into our brains. Not, mine though…no way, not this guy. (wink…wink) Happy St. Patty’s Day!!!

Thanks for listening


At 12:23 PM , Blogger Paige Jennifer said...

Um, you have it easy. Girls are wired to over analyze and attach meaning where no meaning exists.

Last night he kissed me. Ah, the first kiss. But I had just put on some gloss that tastes like crap. What if he thinks that my mouth now tastes like crap? Oh fuck. That's it, damn gloss. Now he's never going to call me. I have got to throw that shit out!


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