That's the good part.
Then comes this.
More and more I hear these ring-back tones as I deliver and I absolutely hate the songs. And when people don't answer I have to hear them over and over. And the song quality is horrible, and it's usually loud so I have to point the phone sort-of away from my ear while it's "ringing." From garbage rap songs to yee-hah country it's nearly unbearable.
So basically I can't stand ring-back tones anymore. They're the epitome of a self-absorbed mindset. Because, really, what is the point? How often does one call their own cell-phone? Almost never, unless you've lost it or something. The ring-back tone exists solely for those who actually call: friends, family, wing and pizza deliverers, potential employers, creepy guys from eHarmony.
If this really is for the benefit of the caller there is a tacit assumption you, the caller, will like my ring-back tone: you will like the song, you will like the song's volume, you will like the song's quality.
And, most of the time, I don't. So the whole purpose of the ring-back tone is moot. It's a failure. It just doesn't work.
Thanks, but no thanks.
Because while I'm sitting here waiting for you to maybe possibly answer the damn phone when I call, I have to endure some Toby Keith song over and over and over I think I may just take my phone and your chicken and throw it into the woods.
Bottom line: music is personal. If I want your recommendation, I'll be chipper enough to ask. Stop paying for the ring-back tone, because odds are you have a horrible taste in music, in my opinion at least. And I'm the one listening. So my opinion counts.
P.S. Jack Johnson lady . . . call me . . . I promise you free chicken.
5 comments:
I had a Jack Johnson ringback tone and I order wings all the time! What kinda of underwear was I wearing, and how many ears did I have, (hint: it's not two)? If you can remember this, I'll give you my number!!!
You were at least smart enough to write down her phone number and address right? That's all the information a good stalker needs.
God did I come across as stalker-like? Oh well.
She has my # too...
I'd be careful if I were you, steve.
Ms. loves greasy wings has aids.
Well that quickly degenerated.
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