Dear World: Let's Shut Off Our F**king Phones

I’m Ash, and I’m a writer, traveler, nonconformist & nomad, and every week I’m sharing funny field notes from around the world. Currently, I’m in America writing about what it’s been like to return home to my small town, twenty years after living abroad.

So, what are we doing here?

Are we all moving to Copenhagen?

Pros: design-y cool people, pretty architecture, safe streets. I hear it’s totally normal to leave babies chillin’ in a stroller to get fresh air whilst you pop into a restaurant to gnaw off a hunk of pickled herring. Not that I have a baby. But maybe I should still take advantage of this fun-filled cultural trend, and, I dunno, leave my Macbook, my camera, my phone, and my podcast mic in one. I mean, they’re heavy to carry! I have indents on my shoulders from years of schlepping these things through airports with a cross-body satchel and the stink of millennial ambition.

(Satchel is a stupid word.)

You know, I never even leave my Macbook in the car—because WHO KNOWS WHO’S GONNA BREAK IN?????—so this would be a fun experiment. Who knows, maybe next I’ll start trusting people.

Right now, you can’t trust anyone. There are the obvious reasons, of course—full-blown fascism and all—but you know why else humans can’t be trusted?

Because humans have phones.

And if they get ahold of your phone number?

YOU WILL BE MILKED LIKE A COMMUNAL COW.

Here are the players in the game currently known as “Let’s Ruin Livessssss.”

1. Emergency Ernie
   Emergency Ernie starts with a phone call, because Emergency Ernie is a monster. Unplanned phone calls are never, under any circumstances, answered (and I’m not even Gen Z). You can blame this on a lot of things—like the fact that we grew up with answering machines and have been screening calls our whole lives ✌️—but you know what I really blame it on? Nobody having any good, old-fashioned ~boundaries~ when you DO pick up the phone. More on that disorder next.
   
   For now, Emergency Ernie isn’t calling to chat, he’s calling to do something much more sinister: Emergency Ernie is calling to put you on the spot. This is why you don’t answer Ernie’s call: you know. It’s that deep, internal knowing that if you do, Ernie is going to try to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. But, what could Ernie possibly want? You hardly know this man. This man is a casual acquaintance. What could Ernie possibly need from you??? We can’t know. Because Ernie is going to spring it on you in a LIVE PHONE CALL.
   
   At least, that’s what he thinks he’s gonna do. Until you don’t answer. Muahahaha, you plot-foiling mastermind, you.
   
   But, do not underestimate Ernie. Ernie is not done. Ernie does not accept defeat. Ernie will then turn to his less preferred channel of communication, but alas, a concession he must make in order to really wear you down.
   
   Moments later, you receive . . . the text message.
   
   Now, you might think that is a good thing. You might think, “Oh, finally, Ernie’s come to his senses and made this random request on your time the appropriate way.” Except, Ernie does not do what you think he is going to do. Oh no, not Ernie. You know what Ernie does instead??? Ernie sends you . . . THE DOUBLE TAP. You know The Double Tap? It’s when someone calls, and then texts, except instead of simply texting you what he wants, he will double down and say redundant, idiot things. Things like:
   
   “Hey call me back.”
   
   The most sinister and evil of all text messages in all the land. These linger like death, as if I am going to the guillotine.
   
   Hey, call me back? How about: no fucking thanks, champ. I’d rather walk into the ocean. How about you stop being a creep and just tell me what you want?
   
   Side note to all who are just learning millennial phone speak: when you text someone “call me back,” what you are actually saying is, “This is bigger than a text message, or else I’d just text it.” So, we think one of two things: 1) If we know you, we think you are actually having an emergency, and omg, what is wrong?! (so we WILL call you back, but if there’s not an emergency, this will 100% feel like a bait & switch); 2) If we don’t know you—as is the case with Emergency Ernie—we will interpret this as you trying to “get us on the phone” to manipulate the shit out of us, which is something boomers know can be done more easily over the phone. (Trap!)
   
   So, you know what happens next, right? We aren’t responding to your message, bud. You are terrifying. And, not in a scary way, but in a “don’t wanna touch that with a 10-foot pole” way. Plus, now you’ve forced our hand: by answering your demands and calling you back on the spot, we’re teaching you that this kind of behavior is okay. And, um, it’s not. So now you’ve really gone and ruined everything for all of us.
   
   Ernie, however, is in it for the long haul. He will not shrink. He is a warrior! And so, Erie, being Ernie, will then engage in the most violent, predatory behavior of all.
   
   Ten minutes later, Ernie will text your partner.
   
   “Hey r u with ashley, can she call me”
   
   No punctuation, definitely the “r.” Definitely the “u.”
   And your jaw will drop to the floor, because now you’ve really gone and done it. Now, there will be no communication at all. Because now, YOU HAVE CROSSED THE FINAL LINE.
   
   Did you magically sign employment papers while you were sleepwalking? Is this why you are suddenly being hunted? Are you on the clock and didn’t know it? Why are on earth are you so urgently needed by someone you hardly know, as if there is some massive emergency?
   
   Finally, all resources exhausted, Ernie will succumb. Ernie will admit defeat. At 9 o’clock at night, Ernie will ultimately send the text message he should have sent in the beginning:
   
   “Hey, just wondering if you would like to volunteer at the chicken bbq June 9th?”
   
   Except now you can’t because you’re hospitalized with panic attacks and hate everyone’s guts.
   
2. Ear Bleed Beth.
   The next player in the game called “Let’s Ruin Lives” is called “Ear Bleed Beth.”
   
   Ear Bleed Beth is never just calling to make plans. There is no way she is calling to ask you a quick question. There is no way she is just calling to confirm what size shoe you wear because she wants to BUY YOU A NICE PIECE OF WINTER FOOTWEAR. And, most of all?
   
   There is no way she is actually calling you to see how you’re doing.
   
   No, no, none of those are the reasons why Ear Bleed Beth is calling.
   
   Ear Bleed Beth is calling because she needs an audience to speak at for the next 2.5 hours. She wants you to answer the phone so she can get ahold of you with her human vice grips. And she wants to bleed her voice into your ears. (Without you interrupting, thank you.)
   
   This is typically because of one reason, and one reason only: she would like to rehash things. A lot of things. Lots of rehashing. Ear Bleed Beth’s entire life revolves around rehashing who’s hurt her, and spinning in circles about how she didn’t deserve it. And, Ear Bleed Beth must be ~vindicated~.
   
   Fortunately, you were a star student. And, you know what star students are great at? Being good fucking listeners, that’s what. Just like their teachers taught them! (Ear Bleed Beth was never a good listener, but she knows how to spot one when she sees one.)
   
   Incidentally, this is how most of your friendships got made in your 20’s: because people like Ear Bleed Beth preyed on you. (And won.)
   
   So now? You are ruthless. You must go to new lengths. You must do what few brave souls have yet to do:
   
   You must ALWAYS be in a client meeting.
   
   There are no exceptions. No downtimes. No evenings. No free time. For, this is the only way to beat this force of nature: by preventing it from whirling into your earlobe in the first place. Because, we all know what happens once you answer: there will be no reprieve. There will be no graceful exits. The only way out is to hang up on them.
   
   And, man, does that make things weird.
   
3. Out of the Blue Brad
   The next player in “Let’s Ruin Lives” is called “Out of the Blue Brad,” and that is because you haven’t spoken to Brad in twenty years, but suddenly, Brad remembers that you know how to build websites.
   
   Brad is very excited about his new website. And—guess what!—Brad was hoping you might help him out.
   
   So, he’ll start off with the easy lobs: send a text message that just says, “Ash?????” (because he’s a millennial). When he doesn’t get you right away, however, he will resort to finding you on every other channel you may or may/not exist on (because he doesn’t simply assume you are at capacity and don’t have the bandwidth to catch up at present; he assumes you’ve switched numbers), so next up, you will receive a Whatsapp message, and then an Instagram message, and then finally, maybe a Messenger message (just a prayer).
   
   Again, it is like you are being hunted. And worse? You will start to feel obligated.
   
   It’s not that you don’t like Out of the Blue Brad; it’s that you are focused, you are disciplined, you are writing, you are building, you are creating, you are in the middle of something critical—and, in your spare time, you’re trying like hell just to keep up with your inner circle and remember to take down your Christmas tree. You’re really ARE at capacity with the ambitious projects you are pursuing, which is why people like Brad hunt you in the first place: they know you are a person who gets shit done. Thus, they want you to get their shit done. Preferably for free, of course—usually whilst citing some throwback rap lyric about ride or die.
   
   IT’S NOT THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO HELP. It’s that you don’t physically have enough bandwidth to coach someone through their life, not when someone drops in out of the sky after twenty years and starts making additional requests on your time.
   
   I have advice for anyone who is excited about their ambitious project and want to get started right away:
   
   Google it.
   Work on it.
   Begin it.
   Get it started.
   See where you get.
   Make an effort.
   Try.
   
   And then when you get stuck? Then ask someone you know for specific, targeted help. Ask them specific questions that can get you to the next level. Don’t ask for hand-holding. Don’t ask for babysitting. Don’t ask someone else to police your lack of discipline. And, don’t just lob the whole project into someone’s lap, like: here, can you guide me through this WHOLE ENTIRE THING??? Be aware that the reason you respect this person is because they have invested the last 20 years in doing exactly all of these things. So, yeah, they’re busy. And, they (probably) will help you: as long as you respect that they are busy, and get to the point (rather than smothering them with random messages all over the place, in the hopes that they’ll somehow have a free three hours to chat on the phone in order to “inspire you” and help you “get the ball rolling.”) This is not Mr. Rogers. I am not your life coach. And, neither are you.
   
4. Finally, the last player in today’s round of “Let’s Ruin Lives” is called “Hey Girl, Greta.”
   
   Hey, Girl Greta is a unique one, because that’s all she ever says when she texts:
   
   ”Hey, girl.”
   
   Actually, it would be without the comma:
   
   ”Hey girl.”
   
   And, probably without the capitalization:
   
   ”hey girl”
   
   THERE WE GO.
   
   Anyway, that’s all it says: “hey girl.” No follow-up. No other sentences. No questions, no small talk. Just that ONE OMINOUS LINE, dropping into your messages like an atomic bomb. How are we to interpret this? What are we supposed to do with this? This feels like a trap.
   
   Funny enough, I don’t think it is. It’s not like when someone texts you and just writes “Yo.” Now that is a trap. That is a request for a phone call, but couched in a simple innocuous hello. Because the moment you answer, you know what’s coming next. “Ah ha, GOT HER!!!!!!!!”
   
   But not “Hey, girl.” No, that one’s different. That one’s just an attempt to connect, but without the actual connection part.
   
   However, I still don’t like answering these. These feel like you’re using me because you’re bored. But, you see, I am not bored. And mindless texting, in its many forms, usually just feels like someone yanking at a weight around my ankle. Look at me, pay attention to me, feed me, suckle me!
   

See what I mean?

If the world’s gonna end, it’s going to be because humans say things like “suckle” humans have access to phones, and eventually the rest of us are all just going to collectively shut them off.

POWER. OFF. MODE.

Wouldn’t that be a treat?

Imagine what kind of things we could build? Imagine what kind of art we would make? Imagine the poetry we might still write? Imagine the paintings we might paint? Imagine the beauty we might create?

Imagine the life we might have?

Oxygen has never felt so necessary.

For now, I guess the babies in Copenhagen will just get to have all the fun.