Here’s some advice for anyone leaving me a message: Get on with it or you might lose me. I already cringe every time my cell phone rings. My ring starts with, “If something’s going wrong, you must whip it,” by Devo. And half the time something is going wrong so I’m scared of the phone in the first place.
I think the worst thing you can do to someone on this planet is to waste their precious time, especially on the phone. If you are leaving a message start with your name and phone number and then ramble all you want. At least that way I don’t have to wait while you tell me what you are going to retell me when I call you back.
I just got a call from a woman who wanted something that I don’t have. I listened to the nonsense for a couple of minutes about the kids and their wedding and his career and all, but to be honest with you, I don’t know who you are and I don’t care about the minutiae of your son’s education. I would have liked to call you back and tell you that I don’t have what you need, but I never made it to the point where you give your phone number before I erased the message in frustration. If you are calling about business, get down to business!
While we are on the subject of phones, I’m reminded that there are so many things to dislike about them that I don’t know where to begin. People often leave long, cute or jumbled messages on their machines that you have to wade through just to leave a message. I’m pretty sure we all understand how to leave a message these days, so don’t torture us with instructions that most people will never adhere to anyway.
“This is Julie. I am either busy with a client or away from my desk so please leave your name, number, the time you called and a brief message after the tone. Thanks for calling,” will never do. Those tediums are often followed by the woman machine voice spouting, “To page this person, press four. To leave a call-back number, press six. After you leave a message, press pound or hang up.” OK, life-waster, I got it.
And then there are those who never call you back, even though their message might promise something like, “I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” Even worse, some don’t manage their messages, let their mailbox box (whatever that is) overflow and then you get the message, “I’m sorry, the person you are trying to reach has a mailbox that is full.” End of story.
I have four friends who still use the answering machine to screen calls. This sometimes stops me from even trying and I’m realizing that this may be the goal. But it is downright humiliating talking into the answering machine trying to say the right thing to get the phone picked up. And, without exception, and no offense intended, but all of these friends have long messages that you have to listen to before starting the tedious process of talking to their machine in the hope that they will pick up. One even does it in English and then Spanish. Torture! Get caller ID, please! I’ll even pay for it.
Then of course, some people with caller ID call you back, even if you did not leave them a message. Sometimes you dial the wrong number and hang up. The last thing you need is that desperately lonely stranger calling you back and asking, “Did someone there call for me?” Talk about annoying!
And why do people desperately clamor for their cell phones the second the airplane lands? Can’t you wait to get inside the terminal to check all those important messages and to call your friend to tell them that you, “just landed. No, I’m still on the plane, etc.?” Stop that!
I don’t often screen calls. I figure the 10 friends that may want to talk to me are OK. I hate my phone and have always wanted to throw the cell in the river. I need to get one of those newfangled phones with the big, virtual buttons so that I can start texting. Then, just like the kids today, I won’t actually ever have to talk to another human being.
Reach Steve Skinner at nigel@sopris.net.
