John D. Fuckbody

I just found myself in the uncommon position of leaving Steve Roberts a voicemail.  It’s not common that I find myself in such a position but here I was calling Roberts and leaving him with directions to a poetry reading that we’re both attending this evening.  Roberts’ computer is broken, so when ran into him in the quad, Roberts specifically asked that I call him with the information.

However, I found myself at a loss once I phoned him, it kept ringing, and  Roberts’ phone beeped, instructing me to leave him a VM.  First, there’s something you need to know: I hate making phone calls, I hate being on the phone, I hate small idle chatter on the phone.  i love being in person with someone so I can see them.  I’m one of those annoying people who likes to “see to believe”

And there are really only 2 kinds of voicemails that I can leave someone 1) A drunk and or “jokey” VM.  Something to the tune of “What’s up with vampires? Lemme know.” Or “I fyucking love icecream man! BUT  i hate you!”  or 2) The “Logistics” voicemail.  I was leaving Roberts the latter.  The logistics voicemail always includes a time, a place, and a reason for calling. Because I am truly such a self-loathing person, I have trouble with the third kind of voicemail, i.e., the “Informational/Caring” voicemail.  This is the kind of voicemail where in you tell someone information that you think they might like, need, or enjoy.  In my mind, this is what texting and emails are for.   Everyone can attest to my wonderful emailing abilities, and I am the first to say I’m a great communicator in that medium. 

But back to basics: this post is about leaving Roberts a voicemail.  Thing is, usually I gather my thoughts and steel my soul when calling someone — whether it be my mother or father or BFF.  I have, as noted, a phobia with phoning so even if I’m calling the person whose vagina I spring out  into the world through, i’m cagey.  I’d rather just text a simple “happy mother’s day!”  and be done with it.  Or I’d rather see the person.  I make people feel special when I meet them in person, and my social stock only rises by being virtually unavailable via telephone.

So, Roberts’ phone beeps. I had planned on just reciting the information to the live Roberts.  But I found my mind wandering. “Roberts?  Is Roberts even coming to the reading?  Why can’t he just check his email like a normal person? Isn’t there a rule about not calling homosexuals before noon? How dare Roberts not pick up!  This is an outrage? Doesn’t he know who I am?”  This and many other questions were filling my mind,  logistics falling away.  So basically I left roberts a wandering voicemail, where I mention the “Bergen Stop on the G/F” like 45 times, the name of the pub was spelled out but not spoken, and I am 90 percent sure I left the time of the reading completely out of the voicemail. 

One of the reasons leaving Roberts a voicemail is irritating is that I have no incentive to organize my thoughts.  And that comes down to this: Exhibit A: The Pork Pie Hat.

Roberts sent this to me the other day.  I think he’s trying to “send a message.”   Uh, there’s only one David Cho and it ain’t him.