As a man, I like to get to the point. Which is why there are only three acceptable texts a person can send or receive, and those three texts are “I am late,” “Where are you?” and “Do you need beer?” A cell phone is a communication tool. It relays important information. They are not toys. Do you think Captain Kirk ever sent Spock a message on his communicator that read, “How r u? : – )” No. Exploring strange new worlds is serious business.
Why do you think so many guys wear Bluetooth earpieces in public or clip their mobile devices to their khaki pants? Because they want their technology close, handy, in case they have to call in an airstrike while strolling through Crate & Barrel.
According to science, 99.9 percent of people under the age of 25 text in their sleep. They text while showering. They can bend the space-time continuum and send texts from yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Also, according to science, people over the age of 25 would text more, if their fingers weren’t so old, creaky, and fat. But ages aside, the science doesn’t really indicate whether an affinity or straight-up addiction to texting is a matter of age or gender.
New research from the DeVore Institute of Sweeping Gender Generalities has concluded that more women text than men. This makes sense, since women invented verbal communication. Ancient man used to convey information with fingers, farts, and silly faces. Then women came along and, in between creating missionary sex and civilization, invented words. This was an important development. Women were able to, suddenly, instruct their men. Complain and fluff tender caveman egos. This communication had practical applications, but it also served to cure that particularly human plague – loneliness. Verbal communication slowly became written. The very first text, I believe, was scrawled with charcoal on a cave wall in Northern Europe. It read: “Mammoth, stick man, tree.” And, roughly translated, that means: “How r u? ; – )”
These cavewomen then came to expect their mates to return the favor. To share their fears (mammoths), hopes (mammoths) and desires (mammoths, cavebaby-making.) Sharing these … feelings … produced agreeable results. And my gender just ran with it. The first love letter was likewise scratched out on a cave wall and it read: “Flower, penis, sun.” Translation: “What r u doing?” Hundreds of thousands of years later, we have Coldplay. We came to learn, over the millennium, that women want men to tell them how they are feeling. Men don’t exactly wonder why, but we just know this: You like to know what’s up. Not because you’re bored, or possessive. But because it’s just nice to know. Fire lights up the dark. Staves off the cold. Brings two people closer. Words do the same thing.
Which is why texting is such a perfect medium for double Xers. It’s a medium that allows them to be in constant connection with the men in their lives. A tether made out of digital snowflakes. I resisted this for years. My dude friends and I do not engage in small talk over our phones. We are blunt. Important information is disseminated. Mission critical intelligence is shared. But when it comes to my girlfriend? Look, I’m a big believer in writing love letters.
Every guy should write love letters, and mean it. That means writing something that would be laughed at and viciously mocked by friends if they ever read it.
Back to my point: I send silly little love texts to my girlfriend. Not because I want to. Or because I think I should. But because she loves to get them. We both agree that nothing serious is ever communicated over text. Breakups don’t count over texts. The same goes for apologies. Booty texts are only acceptable if you’ve already slept with the person. There is nothing lamer than a cold booty text. Also? Fights over text are a waste of time, because they don’t exist in the real world. If you are out for the evening, and it is an approved outing with the boys OR the girls, then you are obligated to send an end-of-the-night text, but you are not obligated to send hourly update texts. Cell phones are not virtual chaperones. One last thing, there’s an old Chinese saying that goes like this: “He who does not delete texts regrets texts.” Just sayin’. Fair warning.
But short texts from a man to his woman that say, oh I don’t know, “Thinking of u” are acceptable. Or even “Miss u.” Or maybe even “I want to eat ur delicious face.” Between men, texting is only for the exchange of data. But I concede: I text her so that she knows her name is never far from my lips. And texts are easier to write than sonnets.
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