I never answer my phone. Not ever. I blame this behavior on having grown up in a household in which my mother’s at-home business meant phones ringing off the hook at all hours, every caller in need of my mother’s time and energy.
Mom used the answering machine as her secretary. It found out all of the pertinent information in advance and allowed her to return the calls at her convenience. I liked that element of control. I still do.
When Caller ID came out, I thought I’d never want it. Why bother? It’s only going to tell me what my full-volume answering machine will tell me in one more ring… but less. The machine also reveals what the caller wants. If only Caller ID did that, I wouldn’t seem like such a snob to all of my friends. I’d actually answer the phone.
I do that so infrequently now that, when I do pick up the phone, I’m greeted by, “Oh my God! You actually answered the phone! I’m shocked!”
You know, that’s pretty annoying. Hearing that just makes it that much longer before I do that again.
Maybe it’s an issue of control. I don’t like being surprised by people. If I can call you back, I’m prepared for the conversation. I’ve allocated enough time to deal with you. Sure enough, if you “catch” me answering the phone, I’ll end up spending a precious hour listening to your story, regretting having picked up the phone. That’s no fun for either of us.
I don’t like the telephone. Why should someone have the right to talk to me for as long as they want to, whenever they want to, just because their schedule permitted it? Hell, let’s meet for coffee. Send me an email. Write a letter. THAT’S communication as the art form, not the interruption.
Don’t even get me started on call-waiting!