So I hate talking on the phone…
I don’t know when this all started but I have gotten to the point that if you call me and you get my voicemail, don’t assume I was too busy to answer the phone or away from my phone.
8 times out of 10, I looked at my cell phone, saw your name and decided that I’d rather keep watching TV or hanging out than take your call.
I know that sounds really mean but that’s how I feel.
It’s not you, it’s me.
It’s not that I don’t like hearing from my friends and family but, with a few exceptions (my brother being one), I really don’t have anything to say in return. I don’t find my life that interesting to talk about. I don’t like talking to people who I don’t work with (and who don’t know who I’m referring about) about what goes on at my job. I always find it amazing that people can draw so much conversation about their day at work. Some people can describe work with the same passion they would recounting an episode of Lost or Grey’s Anatomy. I always say the same thing:
Someone: How’s work?
Me: Same old, same old.
I don’t have a girlfriend and if I did, I wouldn’t talk about her. That’s not my modus operandi. I don’t ask for advice nor opinions about how to deal with romantic entanglements. The most I’ll do is tell you what happened and what I did.
So without anything to talk about, a phone call for me becomes about “How much do I want to listen to you?” Most people don’t call you wanting to talk about you. They want to talk about themselves and if you are lucky, you can interject some little tidbit about your life in there.
When I was in high school, I would stay on the phone for hours and hours. I had a friend who I would talk on the phone with from 8 PM until 1 AM in the morning. my mother had $300 phone bills because of my ass. I didn’t mind listening then.
As I’ve gotten older, I have less tolerance for it. Actually I have little to no tolerance for it.
Now if someone is calling about a problem, of course I will be a good friend and listen and advise and console, etc. Those calls aren’t the problem.
It’s the calls that start out like this:
Caller: Hey Sean
Me: Hey! What’s up?
Caller: Nothing. Just chilling. What’s up with you?
That’s when I know I’ve walked into the Small Talk Zone. I despise small talk. I avoid calling my parents because I hate small talk. If I go to hell for all the small crimes against humanity I have committed, my hell would be me glued to a phone while someone drones on and on about their day.
There are some calls I enjoy:
- Calls about sports
- Calls about a TV that just finished airing (mainly 24 and Lost)
- Calls about the making of or confirmation of plans
- Calls catching up with someone who you haven’t spoken to or seen in person in at least a month
- Calls making fun of or questioning the motives of other mutual acquaintances
Those calls are cool. I love those calls. Keep them coming.
But if you’re at home and you’re bored and you’re wondering, “Hey, what’s Sean up to?”, let me settle it for you. I’m up to nothing. Don’t interrupt.