A couple weeks ago, I was hungover, drinking Bloody Marys and reading. Unable to concentrate on the words, I started text messaging friends. Most were "Having Bloody Marys! Join me!" -- but some friends are in other parts of the world, so THAT doesn't work.
I decided to message occasional commenter KWK, one of my oldest friends. Much of our friendship, over the years, has been built on football antipathy -- he cheers for the Oakland Raiders, which anyone from Colorado knows is just plain wrong.
So, I sent him a note, making unfounded, untrue and disgusting claims about a former Raiders quarterback. Seconds later, I got a note on my phone -- I'd sent the message to his landline, not the cell. Seconds after that, I got another note -- it had been delivered anyhow, successfully! Uh oh.
It wasn't until a subsequent e-mail that I learned exactly what happened next: his wife checked the voicemail first that day, to hear a robotic female voice saying "Ken Stabler likes little boys." His wife thought it was an obscene caller. Which, in a sense, it was. But not a random one.
I really long for the days of rotary phones.