Lost in Punctuation

Lost In Punctuation

Like all people who become interested in a potential lover, or suitor, we wait for the phone to ring. It’s more difficult to assess what’s appropriate when dating especially with no guidelines exist for what’s appropriate or not. I felt like a teenager again, confounded by when it was appropriate to call a man I had just met. Was it a week or did I have to wait a few days? Should I call immediately to thank him or would that be translated as needy, or what? I can tell you this. I’m not the only one confused here. Guys I’m sure are just as bewildered as I am as to when to call a woman or not, afraid to be considered desperate or pushy. Often they don’t call at all waiting for us to initiate interest. Some of the more obvious “disconnects’ have a silent agreement that they both don’t want or expect a call after their date. That is the easiest of all the encounters.

I even rallied friends of both sexes when I was interested in a guy to help me assess what to do about the dreaded phone call. It’s rare I actually like a guy. Usually, I’m intrigued, attracted or simply bored with my date, so this became an internal battle. We huddled on more than one occasion as I asked them what would be appropriate. Surprisingly, the men encouraged me to reach out to the man I liked. They knew all too well my “badass” attitude hid my vulnerable side, wanting me to break the barrier of protection I’d built for so many years. I’m sure they also thought that if more women like me were to reach out, they’d be lucky too in their lifetime. They reassured me there was nothing wrong with a follow up call within a few days. Now, notice they didn’t say right away.

Meanwhile, my female friends-single, divorced or still married, huddled and contemplated the different meanings of a phone call to a man rather than waiting for him to call. They came up with so many scenarios of how a phone call right away may be interpreted or misinterpreted. In the end, I lost the desire to even call. Oh, and he never called either. But I was left with this: do what feels right and then worry about rejection later.

I used to give my number out, figuring if the person was interested enough they would call me, but with these unspoken rules and assumptions about timing and what’s appropriate or not, more likely than not we’re going to miss out on good people.  I would say 70% of the people I gave my number to would call. That’s not too shabby. I didn’t think anything of giving out my number and then a friend suggested that maybe I was exuding an “easy” target. Some men get off on simply knowing that they got a number from a woman. Only to store it as a mental conquest.

Again, I hate games. I was not interested in skirting men I thought had potential and I was eager to do the Tango(dating). But my friend’s suggestion that I have them give me their number did make sense. Then I could be in control of whom I called and not sit waiting. Okay, I don’t really wait but subconsciously it’s nice to know that your number is actually being used. Maybe my nonchalance had been misinterpreted. Maybe not. But I decided after several outings and failed dates, that I am no longer giving out my damn number. What’s worse is that phone conversations are rare. Nowadays phone calls are a thing of the past, replaced by the damn text era.

 My fingers have now become expert extensions of communicating. I have not only embraced texting, but use it to blow off someone for my advantage. Often it serves as a great form of informal conversation leaving out the details of the day with a simply “hi” and “bye’ to let someone know you’re thinking of them. Most of my single Mom friends love it because we can chat without interrupting our ritual with our kids. Yes, I was one of those that the law was passed to prevent texting and driving. Surely, no message is worth your life. I heard a radio commercial saying a girl died for the word “yeah”. I imagined if I died due to a text it would read: “Did you pick up the kids?” or “He never called”. Both those would not be worth dying over. So I no longer text and drive.

As convenient as this mode of communicating is, it can be easily misconstrued. Not to mention the abbreviations that I am still getting the hang of: LOL(laugh out loud), BTW(by the way) and MILF(mother I’d like to f…??!). The problem with texts and email correspondence is that depending on the time of day, the comma, the question mark and other forms of punctuation, the recipient may interpret an innocent comment as menacing. I have been a culprit and victim of these types of texts. For example, I’ve sent a message to a Mom wanting to arrange a playdate, that I was not interested. It was meant for someone else. Yikes. You can imagine that I had to pick up the phone and explain that one.

I’ve also sent out what I considered funny quotes only to be told, “that was not nice.” Geez. I didn’t MEAN for it to be misinterpreted. I’ve also received texts that have offended me: some blatant by the wrong men I’d given my number to and some not laced with venom but came across that way. Now on top of the dreaded phone call dilemma, I have to worry about texts to and from people, especially men. No text from an interested party is as deflating as no phone call.

Emails are just as bad. Luckily those damn bright colored faces of a smile, a frown or excitement, help matters a bit, but I feel like a stupid kid. Nonetheless, it does alleviate the potential for error and miscommunication.

I welcome the new world of technology. I do. But there is something potent and mystical lost in the art of personal communication. Hiding behind a screen or a few words is contradictory to the hypnotic sway of another person’s look, touch and verbal words. In the end be careful when you attempt to communicate to a potential date, lover or friend because a lot can be lost in the punctuation.