Message Sent - Never Delivered
Written by Orla Bredin.
Message sent – Never delivered.
Sounds like an entry for the Hemingway flash fiction competition: For Sale: baby shoes, never worn. With two extra words it would be quite a good entry, I think.
Or perhaps it sounds more like the clingy lover, eyes fixated upon their message inbox expecting a speedy reply from a fling who’s only act of speed is deleting your number after a night in your bed.
Neither are true. The truth in this case is far more entertaining than any flash fiction or fling – I hope you enjoy.
September BC (before Covid) I moved to Dublin and entered into the ‘dating’ phase of my life. The three years previous had been littered with various intensities - intense relationships, intense friendships and breakups and intense jobs. Intense had become old and tiring and I wanted new and fun.
So, I decided to simply ‘date’ – my status ‘dating’. I was no longer dating to meet one person but many different people. Dating was now to be a collection of fun experiences and a chance to meet interesting people – of which I met many. This approach also takes much of the fear and panic out of dating. There’s absolutely no expectation.
My goal was to create new experiences and collect funny stories – be careful what you wish for.
A week after this important proclamation I was walking to class in a bright yellow jacket looking like a warning sign – should have heeded that myself. A cute tourist – a skater with a cool hat (you may hear this description in future stories because it appears I have a type – although this man had hair I think which is notable) stopped and asked me for directions. I provided the directions and he continued making small talk. I engaged but looked confused – He admitted he lived in Dublin for the past 8 years and did not need directions – I continued to look confused god bless my naive soul – then the penny dropped and I laughed in his face as I realised he was going to ask for my number. In the end I gave it to him – The 64 year old woman within me gives out that this sort of thing never happens anymore. He was cute and I wasn’t one to be a hypocrite.
That evening my phone beeped – “Still in the nature of smiling?”
Cheesy but sure look.
We texted over and back and decided to meet the following week. A boring but necessary detail the final message of the evening read-
“I get my roster on Tuesday, let’s pick a day then”.
The following week came and went. If the entire situation hadn’t been so bizarre, I would have forgotten it completely.
The following week, following many questions from interested housemates I sent a message to follow up. A simple
“Hey, how’s your week been?”
I went about my business as usual and another week passed unnoticed. One evening I opened up WhatsApp and clicked into his message. Next to my last message was one lonesome tick. Message sent – never delivered.
“He might have blocked you; can you still see his photo?” laughed one helpful friend. I could see his photo – two diamonds – so that wasn’t it. I won’t lie, I absolutely felt like a creep checking that little tick. But weeks passed and I was mildly baffled and intrigued. Where on this earth, in this day and age can a person go where they cannot receive WhatsApp messages.
Months passed. Many more fun dating experiences unfolded, and the poor street man was quite forgotten about.
That was until 3 months later - one cold wet day in December when I was studying in the library for upcoming exams – so naturally looking for any distraction. My phone lit up beside me.
1 New Message: “Hi” – S
“Hey, it’s been a while” – A baffled and bewildered Orla
This was it. The moment I would finally discover where on Earth a person can be that they don’t receive WhatsApp messages. …Take your final guesses folks because all will be revealed in the next message.
“Yes I just got out of a remand PRISON hhh (hahaha?) How are you?”
Prison.
That is definitely the one place on earth you probably won’t receive WhatsApp messages. Seems about right.
