Luv Doc: Critical, Urgent Texts

Confession: The Luv Doc hates texting

Luv Doc: Critical, Urgent Texts

Dear Luv Doc,

I have been dating a woman since June of last year. She is a self-employed Realtor, and I work an office job. We both live in North Austin and get to spend a considerable amount of time together on nights and weekends going to movies, shows, and other social activities. I am usually busier during the day than she is just because of the nature of my work, but since November, I have been really getting squeezed at work and don't have time for a lot of chitchat. The problem is, she keeps sending me texts right in the middle of my workday. These aren't critical, urgent texts either; they're more like, "I love you," and, "Whatcha doin'?" Sometimes they come in right in the middle of important meetings, so I have gotten to where I turn off my buzzer during them. The other day she complained to me that I wasn't answering her texts anymore. I tried to explain that it's hard to answer her texts at work, but she only complains that I used to. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but this is becoming a real problem. What do I do?

Vexted


First of all, I need to make a small confession: I fucking hate texting. There. I've said it. Sorry millennials. Sorry Gen Xers. Sorry baby boomers. Sorry all you a-retentive, gung-ho business types who think you don't have time for anything but poorly spelled, unpunctuated, two-word grunts. Sorry all you airheaded illiterates who can only communicate through the hieroglyphics of emojis. ¯\_()_/¯ I wish you all well, truly, but I am old school. No matter how strident or frivolous the message, I like a little slap and tickle with my prose. Even if it's in 4-point type on a poorly backlit screen. You might have guessed that already, but I had to get it out.

I will also admit to a lack of thumb skills and a corresponding lack of patience. In the time it takes me to text "I'll meet you by the Miller Lite stage," I could walk the entire length of Zilker Park – even through a thick, sweaty surge of festivalgoers. It's a talent of mine. At some point, I feel like one of my ancestors might have been crossbred with a king salmon, which seems ridiculously improbable until you see how scaly my skin gets without the proper amount of moisturizing lotion.

So anyway, yeah. Fuck texting. If it's not important enough for a phone call, an email, an ear-piercing pig whistle, or some sort of emphatic hand gesture, it probably doesn't need to be communicated. In short: You goddamned kids get offa my lawn!!!

Now ... about your girlfriend texting you sweet nothings at work: That's adorable. No, seriously. Isn't it nice she takes time out of her day to do that for you? Why would you want to ruin that because of some realistic fear of losing your job and having to move in with your girlfriend? Yikes! She's a devious one, isn't she? Here is what I would do if I didn't hate texting: I would try to set up – as best you can – some sort of schedule when she can text you and rely on you texting her back. That way, she knows you're actually engaged and not just blowing her off. It doesn't have to be every five minutes, just something she can count on. That sounds reasonable, right? After all, the only thing worse than her texting you too much is her not texting you at all. I mean, that's what I would say if I didn't hate texting.

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