Oddities on the Docket: Texts and Invitations
This has happened to everyone reading this, I’m sure. Your phone bings, beeps, dings, or vibrate. You, my good fellow, have a message. Large cheer! Who could it be? What might he/she have to say? Surely, it’s Hugh Jackman. (What? A girl can dream. I also have an acceptable list of substitutes. AHEM.)
You flip open you phone, or slide to unlock it. You push a button read your message, and then – your smile drops. Annoyance creeps into your face. It’s either one of two things:
- A religious-based text message, with a typical forward-style threat (FORWARD THIS, PUNY HUMAN, OR THE DEVIL WILL EAT YOUR SOUUUUUUUL. Right after, of course, he’s done with Daniel Webster and after he leaves Georgia.) Not only is this text saturated with religious propaganda so ripe that it nearly reeks of brimstone and burning hell fire, it is also is strategically infused with enough guilt to make your grandma proud. Upon reading it, you realize that the sender has considered several things:
- You are not an openly religious person. And, even if you are, you don’t respond to Jesus-based threats. Buddy Christ would FROWN on this strategy.
- This is the text equivalent of those hideous forwards that only certain people pass on, either out of guilt or the secret belief that their hair WILL truly fall out if they do not pass on the magic Rogaine forward to everyone they’re ever met. The “friend” who texted this to you will probably never step on a crack, cross a black cat, or walk under a ladder. That should give you an idea of how to antagonize him/her in the future.
- This person is a few communion wafers short of a proper mass.
Things like this irk me. For one thing, I dislike when anyone proselytizes about religion. I don’t think that’s something that is beneficial to ANYONE. For the record, I was raised Catholic. I am not a very good Catholic, mind you, but I DO say a prayer on the rare occasions I enter a church – and do not burst into flames. Small miracles.
The other strange affront happens when you least expect. You are having your morning coffee, checking emails and sending off notes. Perhaps it is your lunch break, and you want to log into Facebook to see what your friends are up to – or, more honestly, who has posted the cute cat pictures today (City Kitties WIN at that. Check them out.) You log in to your account, and BAM! Your jaw hits the floor.
- You have a friend invite. Curious as Alice before the rabbit hole, you click on the invitation. Once you do, an immediate dread fills every inch of your body. It is ONE of the following people:
- The person who made your middle school/high school experience so miserable that you half-considered begging to be homeschooled. This is the kid of called you Josie Grossy, ran your underwear up the flag poll, or routinely made fun of your clothing. In short, a minion of the aforementioned SATAN.
- The Ex you have been trying to forget OR the one you’re so thankful to be rid of that you threw a PARTY when you broke up.
- The single most horrific excuse for a human being that you’ve ever met. He/she lies proficiently, so artfully that Iago would be instantaneously jealous. (Not that he/she would ever admit to such atrocities.) He/she is a person who should not own animals or be around children, AND YET… He/she once asked a question so appalling and inappropriate that he/she should’ve lost the right to speak for the rest of his/her natural born life. If this were a Shakespearean play, his/her tongue would’ve been forfeit and then made into a lovely pie. (Ms. Lovett would be PROUD.)
This is, undoubtedly, the strangest thing about Facebook. People you haven’t spoken to since you were eight suddenly FIND you, and it’s like the Golden Fleece has been lifted from their eyes, and OH MY GOD, let’s be BFFs!!! (Yes, I know that you can set it so people can’t find you, but then you run the risk of excluding the one person out of a hundred that you’d actually like to talk to.) Personally, I’ve reconnected with some great people on Facebook. But every now and then, I get an invite that I really wish I didn’t. If it was as simple as running into this kind of person in the street, I can deal with it easily enough. But when faced with the decision of accepting an invite, or declining the damn thing for someone to see, I have reservations about it. No one likes to be declined, but decorum and sanity suggest that accepting an invitation that most surely would threaten one’s mental health is unwise. (If only Jane Austen were around. She would’ve said that more eloquently than I.)
So, I know that I’m not alone in these two examples. Share with me your tales of Texting and Internet Woe. Regale me, if you will, with all the horror stories you can muster. And, maybe someday, I’ll tell you about that one crazy ex-friend who e-stalked me for over two years.
Until next time, loves, remember: when the choice is either CAKE or DEATH, choose cake. Not OR DEATH.