Confessions Of A Horrible Male Texter

Although it’s mostly because of work, I am almost always on my phone — checking email, checking Twitter, checking text messages — and if I’m not on my phone, it’s never really far from me for an extended period of time.

Because I work a hectic schedule, I like the option of texting for two main reasons: (1) It allows me to carry on multiple conversations with people, be it a high school coach of a local team I cover, my best friend, or a girl I’m interested in; (2) It’s at my convenience in that, if I’m busy, I can answer it when I have time. If we’re having a vocal conversation, I can’t do many of the things I need to do while trying to actually listen to what you’re saying and give an intelligent response back; (3) Since my memory is awful, it serves as a reminder of what the question was. I can open the conversation and see, “Let me know when you’re off work,” and remember to call that person.

When the dust of my day is settled and I don’t need to worry about any pertinent information coming in, or if I’m enjoying a day off, I’d much rather prefer to talk on the phone. It’s more intimate; it’s more personal; and, honestly, the conversation goes quicker. (Think about it: You can find out in five minutes of a phone conversation what could take 45 minutes via texting back and forth.)

But, because I have a hectic schedule and a memory that isn’t the greatest (except for maybe useless high school volleyball facts), I am also a horrible texter.

I admit it.

“Hi, my name is Mike, and I am a horrible texter.”

Most of my close friends and family understand that if I “ignore” a text or if it takes me hours to respond, it’s because I either forgot about it or am too busy at the moment. (Note: Yes, I could easily respond if busy, but I’d rather respond when I have the time to be able to talk at a reasonable pace.)

However, in my dating life, it’s an enormous crutch. We can be talking, then if news breaks, or if I have to go to work and forget to tell them, seven hours can fly by without so much as an explanation as to why it seems like I just up and vanished.

I can’t count the number of times when I’ve gone from a relaxing conversation to a whirlwind of phone calls, writing, showering, driving, writing, phone calls, writing and driving before I realize, “Oh crap, I never got back to them.”

It’s never personal. If I’m talking to you, it’s because I want to talk to you. If I didn’t want to talk to you, I wouldn’t. It’s as simple as that. Life is busy enough without having to try and court someone I am interested in, let alone talk to someone who I’m not interested in or who annoys me.

When it comes to someone I am interested in, I really don’t like texting altogether. I want to see you. I’d rather see you once, twice or three times during the week for a date than text you all day, everyday and not see you. I’d rather have a one-hour conversation with you late at night every now and then and hear your voice rather than see your name pop up on my phone.

“Hi, my name is Mike, and I am a horrible texter… but let’s get together sometime, instead.”