Have you ever noticed how everyone except me is bad at texting? They are, and their badness makes the world worse. Here is what is wrong with how everyone except me texts:
Sometimes, when I text someone, I want a reply immediately. I want it so badly that I cannot fathom a world in which I do not receive the thing I want. Are they dead? That is the only acceptable excuse. Are they ignoring me? If so, congratulations to them for making me cry in the dark. I do not care if they are driving, or at work, or out to dinner with their lesser friends, or in some deep, inescapable coma. Living in the modern world means accepting a responsibility to always provide me with the thing I desire exactly when I desire it. So when the thing I desire does not arrive on my phone, I am furious. They have texted very badly, and I will never forget it.
Sometimes, I don’t want to hear from people because I am busy. But these bad people continue to text me constantly. They send loud and horrible texts to my phone, and pay no heed to my need for “me” time while I refresh my Twitter notifications for hours on end. I ignore these awful texts, but they only send more, demanding my valuable attention and sharp wit, saying things like “Pop-Pop’s in the hospital, please call” or “Hey did you steal my computer???”. There are no manners left in the world.
When I read texts from people who aren’t me, I am bored. People are wasting my time, which is full of immeasurable potential. If someone texts me a link to an article, the article is always boring unless it is an article that I have written. If someone texts me anything other than a link to an article, then it better be about Beyoncé being pregnant, because what even is the point of texting me otherwise. How the hell am I supposed to respond to a text like “How’s it going?” Please keep my needs in mind the next time you go on a stream-of-consciousness journey.
I do not like to read texts with a typo, not even a small one, and especially not one that only exists within the constraints of my personal yet rigid grammar rules. Anyone who has ever made a typo needs to read more books, of which I have read dozens. I don’t believe in shorthand, or “cyber slang,” either. If you replace a word with a number, or shorten “because” to “cuz,” you are probably a serial killer.
Fortunately, there is a solution to these problems: Everyone can learn to text more like me. Here is what is good about the way I text:
If you are not rereading your texts 100 times before hitting “Send,” then you do not care about the person you are texting. It’s just that simple. You might think, after the 59th reread, that you’re good to go—but you’re not. You may yet catch typos, or clumsy wordings, or gruesome family secrets that you’d sworn never to reveal to another living soul. Only until you’ve devoted your text permanently to memory are you ready to release it into the world.
Emojis are like selfie sticks: When people use them, I immediately make judgmental lip-smacking sounds.
There is an 11-hour window in which I text, and any text sent outside of that window is wrong. If you text me before 9 am EST then you are trying to wake me up, and that is malicious. My phone’s notification ringer is always on, and it is the theme song to the classic feel-good sitcom Family Matters. If you try to text me after 8 pm EST, I will assume you are trying to kiss me, and that is laughable. I do not care what time zone you are in.
4. I sign every text with my initials, “Your friend, and—God willing someday—your lover and confidante, JLB”
If you do not sign every text with “Your friend, and—God willing someday—your lover and confidante, JLB,” then you aren’t taking communication seriously.
I hope this has helped explain why your texts are so bad and mine are so good. If you have any questions, please text me in exactly the manner I have outlined above and in no other way whatsoever.
(P.S.: If you ever leave me a voicemail, I will send the police to your home.)