Last night Suzanne and I were sitting in the family room doing nothing in particular when my phone, which was sitting on my desk in the study, made the little noise that signaled a text had arrived. Since I seldom get texts except from Suzanne, I was curious, but not enough to get up and walk all the way into the next room to check. Then it signaled again, and again, seven times in all, and I decided I should probably go check on it. The first of the seven texts read, “Heyyy sexy ass,” which should immediately make it obvious to anyone who knows me that a mistake had been made. The next half a dozen texts were very specific about what the sender wanted, and were more and more graphic. Since some body parts I do not have were involved, it was clear the texts were not meant for me. I thought long and hard about my reply; there were so many possibilities. In the end I simply texted, “You probably have the wrong number” and did not receive any more texts from the mystery admirer.
I think the internet is a civilization-changing invention, ranking up there with the printing press. It has permeated all aspects of our lives and is on the whole a real boon for mankind, making research and communication on a world wide scale accessible to almost everyone.
There is, however, a downside or two. The person who texted me meant to send his or her messages of desire to someone, and that someone did not receive them. I got them instead. I wish them well on their journey of love (or at least lust) and hope it is a consensual adult relationship. I also hope they leave me out of it from now on.