And if anything it made me realise that the friends you make are the ones you make an effort with, and who make an effort with you. The phone conversations mainly felt brief, a touch uncomfortable. I'd start by going “Well…”īut none of that happened. ![]() People at parties would ask how we got together and we'd look at each other knowingly and laugh. If this was a TV show, maybe I'd become best friends or lovers with one of these forgotten contact names. I wish I could say I learned something valuable and life-affirming from this experiment – that my worldview had expanded a little, that I forged meaningful connections with people who nearly passed me by. “How did you get my number?” they reply cagily. They sound like the type of person who might send me 3AM WhatsApps about 2-for-1 deals on Stardawg. The last person I try is someone called “Spinner”, who I wish I remembered but honestly I don’t. People don’t seem to want to speak to me, and when they do, it doesn’t really add anything to either of our lives. Fuck you, Carter.īy this point I’m getting tired. Wow he really can’t remember me, can he? “Were you friends with Rachel?” I was friends with Rachel. Stoke Newington? 2011, 2012? Did we… did we sleep together? For a moment I feel bad, like what if someone I’d slept with couldn’t remember me? “Daisy… Daisy…” he says, as if racking his brains after I explain why I'm ringing. How could I ever know a “Carter?” But just as he picks up, a few vague memories start swimming back. Next up is “Carter,” which sounds like someone in an American high school rom com from the 2000s. But they didn’t, and when we say our goodbyes after exactly one minute and 16 seconds, I get the feeling we won’t speak on the phone again. You never know, we could have been lovers in another life, had things worked out differently. I like the sound of Alex we could have been friends. You give your number to someone then it just fizzles out when neither of you make the first move.” But also I think that happens a lot on Tinder. ![]() “I remember you because you were really forward, also I follow you on Instagram so…” Why did we stop speaking? “Well I've got a girlfriend now. Did I live with an Alex T? Hook up with an Alex T? Have me and any Alex T ever been friends? “Ha, I think we swapped numbers on Tinder but, like, ages and ages ago,” she says (that must account for the “T”). The next person who does is someone called “Alex T.” I mentally scan all the Alex’s I know. Even in that brief 30-second conversation, I cannot imagine why me and Chris would have swapped numbers. “Sorry I’m at work and there are customers, but… good luck!” he hangs up before I have a chance to piece anything together. “Camden?” I haven’t been to Camden in years, but it’s a possibility. I explain that I’m ringing people on my contacts list, people I don’t remember, and does he happen to know how we met? “Er, no mate sorry. “Hello?” they ask, with the confident tone of someone who actually uses their phone. The first person I call, “Chris”, picks up after two rings. And one contact, “Emma Gemini”, literally blocks me without replying. A few of them have obviously changed numbers because my WhatsApps don't go through. To begin with, I pre-warn a few of these people with a message, but this doesn’t go too well. ![]() The names that I cannot for the life of me conjure up a face for. Instead, I go for the names that I have literally no recollection of adding. As someone who uses their phone a lot for work, I have to be careful not to ring “Este Haim”, “Jamie Klaxon” or “Lindsay Lohan PR” because that would be unprofessional. And so, one afternoon, I decide to give a bunch of them a ring for “a chat” in order to “reconnect.” What could go wrong?įirst, I whittle it down to a shortlist. There must have been a reason I added them to my phone in the first place. And who knows? Maybe all these names in my phone – “Esme Tinder”, “Kaya Club”, the vague and innocuous “Em” – shouldn’t be viewed as strangers but opportunities for friends I haven’t made yet. ![]() But in the era of social media, phone calls to people you barely know are almost considered a faux pas.īut all of this got me thinking: social norms are there to be broken. You might have actually rang someone’s house phone for a 30-minute conversation. Back in the day, exchanging numbers might have meant something. And God forbid you’d ever use your phone to actually ring anyone other than your mother. As time goes on, the names stack up, but still you just DM the same few friends on Instagram/WhatsApp/whichever platform you hate the least. If you own a smartphone, chances are you’ve had the same contact list for a number of years.
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