Wednesday, October 26, 2005


Drunk-dialing (or texting, or emailing), now there's a peril of the 21st Century.

We have a twenty-something girl in my office, and I was explaining to her the joys of dating before mobiles. Picture it: the phone goes, and your heart skips a beat. As you dash towards it, you have absolutely no idea if it's going to be him. And if you live with other people, the call might not even be for you. Oh, the disappointment when it turns out to be your mother. And the get-of-the-damn-line death-stares you learn to throw at your flatmate if it looks like she's settling down for a lengthy chat.

Gone is the romance of the telephone. Not only do you always know who's calling, but it's so much cheaper and easier to text. It's a brazen suitor indeed who actually calls a prospective shag-piece, rather than dip a tentative toe in the water first with a text....But while we've lost the who-is-it? excitement, we've gained oh so much more drama from the drunk-dialling potential....We all have mobiles, we all carry them bloody everywhere, and then we all go out and get really pissed. Recipe for extreme embarrassment.

I haven't fallen victim to this too often myself, because I am absolutely ruthless when it comes to the delete button. He hasn't called for over a week? Fuck 'im - delete. We said we'd stay friends? Like I actually meant that - delete. (This does cause a few difficulties when divvying up the land-line bill with flatmates: 0778....definitely not one of mine.....oh,hang on a second...)

A good friend of mine has the opposite approach. When she was a single girl-about-town she always held onto guys' numbers in her mobile, so she had warning just in case they ever called her again. But rather than using their actual names, she saved them under their predilictions. Thus her mobile address-book contained such lovely characters as "Blow-job" and, um, "Bumhole".

I don't have a PC and do all my blogging at work, so I'm fairly safe from the drunk-commenting malarkey. But I have invested in a typey-typey machine recently - I've bought a lap-top off my friend's boyfriend. (Well he's cashed the cheque, still no sign of the bloody thing) Given my fondness for a bottle of red with my dinner, things might get a whole lot less coherent round here in the future...


  • hurray!!

    By Blogger surly girl, at 2:19 PM  

  • Drunk-texting is even worse in my experience, because the recipient can keep the bloody thing. And then show it to all her friends. Cow.

    By Blogger Wyndham, at 6:38 PM  

  • poor wyndham.

    she wasn't worth it anyway.

    By Blogger surly girl, at 9:24 AM  

  • A word of advice - if you're in the habit of sending the occaisional obscenely perverted drunken txt to your GF/BF it's worth inserting a couple of dummy entries into your mobile phone's number list on either side of their number.

    This will help you to avoid doing stupid things, like accidentally telling your great aunt that you'd like to engage in an evening of cocaine fueled S&M with her...

    By Blogger LC, at 9:52 AM  

  • Ah yes, now I know what I did wrong.

    By Blogger Wyndham, at 10:06 AM  

  • Drunken - or even sober - instant messaging is similarly a nifty shortcut to all kinds of relationship disasters. Very dangerous. Mark my words.

    By Blogger patroclus, at 8:11 PM  

  • At a party once (I was spurred on by others, and very drunk) I rang up a bloke I was sort-of involved with to tell him a few home truths (he had a very high opinion of himself).

    So in a voice that I though he wouldn't be able to recognise, I left a message on his answerphone about how he was a total dickhead, lousy in bed and that his village was trying to track down their missing idiot. Half an hour later he rang my best mate (we had used her mobile) after dialling 1471...

    Best bit is I told him that we each had to do a dare and mine was to ring him up and tell him a load of untruths - and he believed me!

    By Blogger Tabby Rabbit, at 10:14 PM  

  • Ahahahaa Rabbit, I'd forgotten all about that episode. Fantastic! Typical of the person in question to have believed that all those things were lies...

    By Blogger patroclus, at 6:59 PM  

  • I remember those pre-caller ID days, glad they're over.

    By Blogger yezenia, at 3:15 AM  

  • LOL! you're right that romance has collapsed with the techno-invasion!

    I've done a bit of drunk dialing myself, but it's really embarrassing to drunk dial my own daughter for fuck's sake! lucky for me she understands...lol!

    Sometimes, I remember to turn off my phone after the 4th beverage....

    By Blogger little sister, at 7:11 AM  

  • I don't need to be drunk to send ill advised digital communications. Did it yesterday completely sober.

    I do find invariably that when I get round to entering a man's number into my mobile, he is then guaranteed never to ring me again. Always works like that.

    By Blogger GreatSheElephant, at 6:35 PM  

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