The other day I checked my voicemail because I was bored out of my mind, had completed binge-watching Someone, Somewhere, and had been sitting in the emissions line for three hours.
The first message was from my boyfriend from over a decade ago. He was breaking up with me. I didn't know he broke up with me. Then he called back and asked if we could get back together. Then he met someone else. I remember that part. Then, he missed me. There was no one like me. I was the one. Then he called back and said forget it. I had no idea what it was.
There was also a message from a friend who thought someone was breaking into her condo. She said it was an emergency. She told me to call the police and come over ASAP. Then she called and said she was fine. It was the cat. Then she called back crying saying she couldn't count on me and she was re-evaluating our relationship. Then she invited me over for a dinner party. Then she called crying because when I didn’t come, my boyfriend hit on her and she thought I should know. She was really sorry. She didn’t think she led him on, but who knows? She was really drunk. Then she called to say she only had sex with him because I never called the police that night. Then she called and asked me why I never told her what an asshole he was. A real friend would have warned her. Wow. I didn’t know any of that.
My grandma called. She’s no longer with us, so it was amazing hearing her voice. She said she was thinking of breaking up with her fella but she wasn’t sure how the young people were doing it these days. She didn’t want to be an old fogey. She wanted to stay relevant. She called again to tell me my brother called her and told her to break up with her fella by text so I didn’t need to call her back. She said she’d only text me from now on. Hip lady.
My mother called because her printer was broken. An employer called asking if I could vouch for a friend of mine I hadn’t spoken to in years. Then they called back and said please get back to them as soon as possible — my friend was on the shortlist of a very prestigious government job and if this was the correct number please call back so they could find the right one.
Someone speaking another language called several times sounding progressively angrier as the calls continued. I don’t know what language it was but someone was in very big trouble.
A person telling me my warranty was over but I could extend it called at least 50 times. I won a trip to Disneyland several times. Someone found my phone and they were going to drop it in a mailbox. That explained why I never found it.
There was a butt call from the boyfriend of a woman I met in Alanon. He was very drunk and telling everybody what good lay she was. He was talking for thirteen minutes. I could have listened for an hour. I never get messages like that. Where was he? Why did everyone live such interesting lives? Was it too late to call her and warn her about him? What year did I get that call? Would she be offended or flattered?
But it got me thinking. Are inboxes as up-to-date as messages in bottles? When was the last time you checked your voice messages? When you were lonely and desperate? When you went on a great date but never heard from the person? When you were stuck in the airport for an extra three days? When nobody had called you in months and you needed to hear a voice, even the voice of a solicitor?
And who leaves voice messages now? I do occasionally, but they are more for me than for the person I’m calling. They’re Narnia behind the fur coats. They’re bread crumbs for Hansel and Gretel. They’re time capsules. They’re the dirty magazine aisle of communication. Enjoy.