There’s always one nonexistent friend in the group chat. That infamous non-responder, loitering in the background, whose contribution to the chat’s discourse remains minimal … if not extinct.
That friend is me. Consider this my self-appointed intervention.
As long as I can remember having a phone in my hand, I’ve been a terrible replier. The phrases “Sorry I missed this” and “How did this fall through the cracks?” very quickly became staple components of my cellular vocabulary. When a new group chat is created, the members will inevitably come to laugh at my inability to respond to a simple question in a matter of hours.
I’m not a horrible replier in all facets of my life. In fact, I pride myself on my swift response time when it comes to work emails, my manager and my mum, which the latter obviously loves: “I feel very privileged to be on your quick response list,” she tells me, alongside a smiling-face-with-hearts emoji.
“Call me instead,” I tell my friends. “I’m a much better caller.” They know if it’s urgent and they need me, I’ll pick up and always be there.
But if I read a message and I categorise it as non-urgent, then it’s a different story.
Say a friend messages me, asking for my thoughts about the next Charli xcx Brat remix album. I’ll read it, automatically reply in my head – “I love it” – but mentally file it away in the non-urgent cabinet, telling myself that I’ll tend to that non-urgent filing cabinet as soon as possible. And then I’m typing another email, eating a banana, calling my dentist, staring out my window, taking a nap – and absolutely forgetting to revisit that non-urgent filing cabinet. My declaration of love for the new Brat remix album arrives very, very late.
When it comes to the group chats, the conversations move so rapidly that if I’m not present for the first five minutes of the discussion, I’ve suddenly missed 67 messages about a bender, a breakup, a dissection of the Wicked movie rollout and two Hinge dates – it’s easy to fall behind, and I do.
I’ve even gotten to a point where I set aside 15 minutes in my Google calendar some afternoons purely to respond to friends’ texts. But even then, by the time I’ve responded to their messages, many have already messaged back, and then I mentally file their non-urgent messages away in the non-urgent cabinet again, and thus the vicious cycle continues – the inevitable iMessage quicksand.
I want to stress I do love my friends and I am grateful to be included in all of the group chats. I simply find it overwhelming to keep up with the never-ending stream of iMessage, Gmail, WhatsApp, Messenger, Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, LinkedIn, Slack, iCal and realestate.com.au notifications that we’re flooded with throughout the day. In these moments, the iMessage notifications often fall by the wayside, my friend’s messages go unanswered and I sometimes feel like throwing my phone into a lake, lying on the floor and staring at a wall. Not to be dramatic.
Alas, I recently asked my friend Tully how she felt about my subpar texting habits. She’s that one friend you can always rely on to give you the non-sugar-coated truth.
“You take three to five business days to respond if we’re lucky,” she tells me. “But you usually leave us on read until you need something or have a question to ask.” Ouch, but probably not wrong.
“To be fair,” she adds, “when we do eventually get an answer out of you – you are always down [for the plans], you always show up when we need you, you never flake or cancel and you’re usually the one driving 40 minutes across town to see us southside so … we can handle the group chat radio silence in return for that kind of friendship.”
Courtney, one of my best friends, also admits that my bad response times can be challenging. “The truth is that I think I knew we had reached a new level of love and companionship when I accepted how truly shit you are at replying and chose to embrace it.”
At this moment, I think about each friend’s role in the group – the prolific messenger, the caller, the non-responder, the drunk crier – and how we all communicate and contribute to the group in different ways. All expressing love in different ways, too.
As I sit down to write this piece, I wonder if my horrible texting could be a symptom of my newly diagnosed OCD? Or maybe I’m just a bad replier? Can I be a bad replier and a good friend? Or am I just a bad friend?
There’s much to ponder, and I can guarantee you this pondering will distract me from the 219 notifications I’m yet to attend to.
• Louis Hanson is a writer, comedian and presenter
