Sunday night I ventured to the Cubbyhole with my friend Kathy to celebrate life, friendship, and her approaching wedding! We had a great time. About an hour into our night, someone came up to me saying, “My friend thinks you’re cute,” and then handed me a card that read: “I think you’re cute, txt me.” There was a phone number, an arrow to the phone number, followed by a smiley face. What the hell? There is so much wrong with this besides the overuse of the word “cute.”
There was a messenger and a message. BUT I had no idea who the maker of this message was. This seems strange to me. Sending a note to text, when you’re within reach?
What has happened to good ‘ol fashion human-to-human interaction? Listen, I get how hard it is to approach someone. I am not an “approacher.” I make strange jokes, giggle, twirl my hair, and make a lot of zodiac references. “Smooth,” doesn’t come to mind. HOWEVER, I would rather a whole lot of awkward come my way vs. a phone number from an unidentified ‘someone.’ Everyone loves a little mystery, but I’m not playing a game of txting-Where’s –Waldo when I’m immersed in good conversation with a friend.
The expression goes “read my face,” not “read my text.” If the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, those eyes need to be revealed if they’re to be gazed upon. Texting has replaced vulnerability.
Everyone wants to be understood, but it seems no one wants to be seen. Hiding behind a phone, a computer screen, or any such device that allows for communication without face-to-face time, gets in the way of truly connecting with another human being. Those moments of vulnerability are some of the most precious, and they’re missed when the words are sent via text. Fully exposing yourself to another (don’t be a perv, I’m talking emotionally) means communicating without walls up, and cell phones have become brick walls. How can you understand another if you lack the facial expressions that reveal their inner workings? A cell phone doesn’t tear, laugh (never “lol” me), blush, roll its eyes…
You get the point. Put the phone down and talk to me. I’d rather see your smiley face than a freakin colon followed by an end parenthesis.