Monday, October 11, 2010

E-Dialogue Between 40-Somethings (okay…much, much closer to 50-somethings): A True Story

Note:  This has absolutely nothing to do with the typical themes of the Baker’s Dozen Press blog.  But there’s always room for humor, right?

11am – Noon 
  • While I am holding a meeting in my office, the landline rings three times; I ignore it until the meeting concludes.

  • I check messages; my husband’s mobile device (I can’t call a Droid Incredible a mere cell phone, can I?) has been calling from his pocket. 
  • I phone my husband, from my office landline to his Droid.
  •  He answers “This is Brad,” indicating that he did not look at the device to find out who was calling. I say, “Please lock your phone.  It called me from your pocket three times while I was trying to hold a meeting.” 
  • “Sorry.”

12:39-12:44 pm 
  • I find a text message on my Droid (yes, his-and-hers; how sweet.) It’s from him.  It says, “You called?” 
  • Me, 12:39 pm text: “I called you to say stop butt-calling me.  We spoke."
  • Him, 12:42 pm text: “But what?” 
  • Me, 12:44 pm text:  Calling from your butt pocket. Butt-calling. Other than when I spoke to you about that…no, I have not called since asking about your emergency blinkers.”
The emergency blinkers?  That was at 7:40 am.  As we both pulled away from the traffic signal near our home, heading to work, I saw them blinking on his truck.  I called, Droid to Droid.  I just noticed your emergency blinkers; are you okay?  Yes; the fuse is out in my left turn signal, so I needed to find an alternative signaling device.

12:45 pm 
  • I realize that his original text message was time-stamped 11:33 am, ½-hour before I called him about butt-messaging (though I could swear it wasn’t there earlier). So who knows why he’d thought I’d called him.  Perhaps he was looking at his call history where our 7:40 am conversation had been documented?

Why are our mobile devices called “Incredible?” Because the makers realized just how incredible it would be if they could help near-50-somethings like us to communicate.  Sort of.
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