I like technology as much as the next guy, but you're starting to lose your texting etiquette, ladies.
I'm not talking about sending a simple message, because that, for the most part, is still fine. I appreciate your succinctness, which frankly saves me from having a long, drawn-out conversation that I might have had to have via phone call.
You know, the kind where we discuss our plans and then I have to ask about your week, what you've been up to, how so-and-so is etc. Phone calls with women are usually 20 seconds of substance and three minutes of filler.
You do realize when men converse, they get to the point, get the required information and then hang up, right?
Here's a typical man conversation.
“Hey, where are you watching the game on Sunday?”
“At that bar on Wilshire.”
“Cool. I'll join you.”
You see, all of the appropriate information was conveyed and the two parties retired to the important business of the day without any needless filler.
Women came in and ruined the phone call by requiring that fluffy stuff and now they're ruining text messages, the last bastion of normal, straight-forward communication.
Let's start from the beginning. These texts are great:
“Yes, I'm coming over.”
“Text me when you're done at the bar and I'll meet you.”
“Do you want to fuck me tonight?”
Texting is also great for the very reason that I – or even you – can ignore them and then send something back in the morning, like this:
“Sorry, I was already asleep.”
“Didn't get this until now.”
“Lost my phone. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner.”
Here's the problem. Someone decided it was OK for broads to start sending pictures of their faces. On several occasions, I've randomly received the self portrait text from some chick – no message included.
What am I supposed to think of this? Is this some kind of reminder?
“Hey, remember me? Don't forget about me!”
Don't worry, if your number is still in my phone, then you are also somewhere in my conscious mind. What you have to understand is so are a lot of other women. You sending me the self portrait text isn't going to change that fact, which is what I don't quite understand.
You know The Brennan Foley. Is this photo of your face supposed to spur me into some sort of action? Am I supposed to call? Should I be reminded of how hot you are and ask you to come by?
Or do I use this for target practice when I jerk off? That might ruin my phone.
None of these scenarios is likely to play out when I receive the self portrait text. In fact, it's pretty much the text filler; the very same filler I was avoiding by not making a phone call. The very same filler I want to avoid because I have more important things to do.
So I started thinking about one possible solution. What if I sent you back a photo of my face? Maybe then you'd see just how strange and not compelling this gesture is. Maybe you'd think I'm wasting your time, too.
Of course, since you're a broad, you'd probably figure out some hidden meaning that was totally unintended, file that away in your brain, and then start acting stranger than you already do.
What I've never understood is if you want to say something, why not just say it? I have to assume that's what the self portrait text is about. I already know how hot you are. That's why I still have your number in my phone. In fact, that's why I got it in the first place.
I don't need a visual e-reminder, and certainly don't want to sit around and try to figure out what it means because, frankly, I don't care.
But more importantly, this gesture also makes me worry for your safety. I don't want you taking self portraits for my perceived benefit or for some malicious intent at an inopportune time like, say, when you're driving.
You could crash your car and damage that pretty face.
Then not I, nor someone who might even want you to waste his time, would be interested. You see, everyone loses.
So, ladies, stop texting self portraits and stop trying to ruin the brilliant, emotionless and effort-free communication tool that is the text message.
Send nudes or just send a regular goddamn message – one with a point – like a normal person. Perhaps then I will reply with your preferred response.
Perhaps. No promises, babe.
Advertising disclosure: We may receive compensation for some of the links in our stories. Thank you for supporting LA Weekly and our advertisers.