posted Wed, 18 Apr 2007
While we were eating supper the other night at home (a delicious barley-shrimp risotto from the latest issue of Martha Stewart, to which my subscription, alas, is about to run out and that I do not feel I can renew as my financial situation is still not quite where it should be) my phone rang. SH looked at me expectantly.
I kept eating.
“You’re not going to answer that?” he asked.
“Nope,” I said.
No one I know is on his deathbed. I wasn’t expecting anyone arriving from out of town. There was no reason for me to interrupt my evening meal to answer the phone. I have an answering machine. If it’s important, the caller can leave a message. Heck, even if I didn’t have an answering machine (like in the olden days), the caller could have called back.
So what’s the deal with people who answer the phone when I call – especially people with caller ID – and tell me in a dramatic whisper, “I can’t talk right now.”
If you can’t talk right now, then why did you answer the phone? You knew it was I – you knew it wasn’t the hospital or your dad or your friend driving in from Nashville who needs directions to your house or Walgreen’s calling to tell you your sick baby’s prescription is ready – so why did you answer the phone if you knew you didn’t have time to talk to me?
My phone is for my convenience. I expect yours is for yours. But is it convenient for you to answer every darn call and inform the caller you can’t talk? Isn’t my way easier?