Text Me Please!

Bitch bitch bitch , moan moan, that's all my friends did about my refusing to text. I finally cracked. I succumbed to the pressure and bought a proper phone. Yep, out with my crappy flip phone and prehistoric texting capacity and in with a fancy little device with a real keyboard. One letter per key feels like a dream come true. I threw in the "I don't text" towel and jumped into the 21st century. No more leaving voice messages for this girl. No siree, I've joined the burgeoning ranks of "no human contact." It's fun and impersonal. Although just between us "call screening" is more fun. Sshhh don't tell my Mom that's what I do, she just thinks I'm always busy.

Armed with a real keyboard I'm ready on a moment's notice to get a text. Except all the bitchers and moaners have disappeared. Not one of the "I can't believe you don't text" folks is in sight. Poof, they've vanished into thin air. Now I'm lonely with an empty "in box." I keep waiting for their messages, but zippo. Send them please. I'm begging all of you; I need words! I'll even take monosyllables. And of course cash.

Ironically not only do I not get text messages - ever since my friend Kay taught me how to permanently get rid of my junk emails no one emails me either. Truthfully I don't long for the pesky Bra Genie or the people from Replacement Windows.com but do miss the embracing and melodious words, "you've got mail." I feel the pain and angst of the Maytag repairman. I wonder if he's single.