Tonawanda News — At 30-mumble, probably not old enough to be Weaver’s parent, I stared at the computer screen. And felt old. And a little sad. And actually pretty angry.
And, again, baffled.
One: I don’t text people I don’t know well. It just doesn’t allow for the introductions or explanations necessary in any sort of new communication. Once I know you, I might text you. Probably not. It’s something I reserve for relatively few, and then only for really simple stuff.
(I’m also draconian about using proper grammar and punctuation in texts. Yes, I know. I’m weird.)
Two: If I’ve left you a message, it’s because I have a message for you. Simple as that. Saying you’re not going to listen to it? I find that far, far ruder than anything else cited.
Here’s a brain cramp for Bilton and Weaver: If I see I have a missed call, I don’t return it unless there’s a voicemail. If it’s not important enough for a voicemail, I figure, it’s not important. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one to feel that way. So where does that leave your rules?
Three: Plenty of people don’t text. Or they don’t even have — or want — cell phones. Honest. It does not make them worthy of your scorn. (Weaver does acknowledge that in these cases it’s OK to leave a voicemail. How good of her.)
Maybe I am old. Or old-fashioned. I can accept that, actually.
But if you consider it a waste of time to spend seconds out of your life to listen to a message from somebody who supposedly cares for you or, you know, honestly needs to get a message to you, well, I feel sorry for you.