Phones Are From Hell…

This morning, I asked a friend for a blog suggestion and he responds with “folks who can’t be reached by phone.”  There is a reason he said that.  The first reason being he’s really sarcastic (which often makes me laugh out loud) and the second is because he seldom reaches me by phone.

“My name is Lisa and I’m a phone hater.”

There.  It’s out.  They (whoever the hell they is) say the first step is admitting there is a problem, right?

Consider it admitted.

I hate talking on the phone.  More than I can say, I hate it.  I’m not even sure I can come up with any decent, justifiable reasons for it.  It’s just not fun.  It was fun back in the day when I was a teenager and had my own phone line in my bedroom.  Hell yes, I’d talk for hours and hours, all night long!  I’d go to school, catch up on my sleep in whatever class happened to be boring me the most so I could go home and start another phone-a-thon.  But now?  Ick.

I hate holding the phone.  I hate hearing it ring (so annoying it makes my teeth itch).  I hate knowing I’ve got to come up with clever and witty repartee’ on the spot (there’s no rehearsal time when it comes to spontaneous phone conversation – that’s a lot of damn pressure).  We don’t have a land line in our house so this means I’ve got to keep up with a cell phone (I suck at that) and  making sure it’s charged (I suck at that, too).  At this very moment, I can’t even tell you where my cell phone is which likely wouldn’t shock anyone who knows me or has ever tried to call me.  I’m not good with chit-chat and making small talk and if someone else is talking and has tons of interesting things to say and I’ve got nothing?  Well, then I just feel like a Kentucky Fried Idiot.  Who needs that kind of blow to the ego?  Certainly not me.

Catch me in person and I’m a great conversationalist…I think (it’s possible that is just my perception and I’m making it up).  I like the one-on-one interaction without the intrusion of an evil device.  I like to read people’s faces, watch their body language and actually see the person I’m speaking with.  THAT I can get into.

If you ask me, I think the same demon that created glitter also created the phone.   That these things came from Hell is the only real conclusion I can come to.

Now, having said all of that let me say this…my friend who made this blog suggestion is a truck driver and he is on the road  A LOT.  Obviously, when he’s driving he can’t text or send emails and I realize I am being completely unfair to him by not being reachable and not practicing proper phone etiquette i.e, knowing where the damn thing is and then making sure it’s actually charged.  Oh, and then ANSWERING when he calls (that’s the BIG one).   He’s so intelligent about so many things that I often feel intimidated by him because in my head, all I hear is me grunting and stumbling for words.    He can wax eloquent about any number of subjects and all I hear from me is “unh huh, grunt grunt huh unh.”  I sound like a fool.  It’s not pretty.  I know this.  Part of me wonders why he even wants to talk to me.  However, my intelligence or lack thereof, is another topic for another blog.

Maybe I should set phone goals for myself?  Starting this week, I’ll do the following:

1.  Know where my phone is at all times (could require wearing it on a chain around my neck or possibly stapling it to my forehead – we’ll see)

2.  Keeping it charged

3.  Taking a call or two (UGH)

Now, I guess I’d better go find the phone and plug it in.  That takes care of 1 and 2.  It’s #3 that is going to be tricky!

Author: Lisa Summerlin

The Smoking Squirrel is my way of bringing happiness to the world. I firmly believe that laughter is the best medicine and sometimes we all need a negative-free zone. This is it. Enjoy!

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