Cold Call the Homies
The Lost Art of Picking Up the Damn Phone
I've been on a journey to reduce my phone's presence in my life. Lowkey, I wish I could disconnect. I fantasize about getting an old Motorola candy-bar-shaped phone where the only game on it is Snake. Or maybe I'd even skip that and just get a pager and a landline. I'll run errands with a disposable camera in my tote just in case I want to take a photo of something interesting.
But maybe the problem isn't my phone—it's how I've been using it. Perhaps it's the false sense of connection that it provides. I'm exhausted with my reliance on platforms that are run by broligarchs. I've had to course-correct the amount of time that I spend doomscrolling. The resulting dearth of cyber social connections with my friends makes me think about them more.
Lately, in those moments, I've been doing something a little out of the ordinary for me. Something a bit old school, if you will. Instead of gearing up to fire off another text message, I've been picking up the phone and calling my friends. No text first. No sliding in DM's. No smoke signal or rain dance. I just pick up my phone, find them in my contacts, and call them. I have to say, it's exhilarating!
Are they gonna pick up? I wonder what they're up to right now. Will they let it ring? Or will they send me to voicemail?
I've found myself judging the strength of my friendships based on who picks actually picks up the phone. When a friend answers, I get a warm rush over my body like, Wow, this bitch really loves me fr. My reaction to them is always something along the lines of, "OK! I love it when a bitch answers my cold calls!" which is always met with immediate laughter. I often sense that the person on the other line feels a quick sense of relief when they realize that I am not facing some sort of imminent threat. Because surely I wouldn't cold call you unless my life was in danger, right? In an era where we've been so conditioned to seek instant gratification and chase dopamine rewards, it's remarkable how a friend answering a cold call can fulfill that new-fangled desire.
Admittedly, I'm not the type of person to call someone just because I wanted to hear their voice or because I was bored and wanted to gossip. But I used to be! And honestly? And to be frank, there's a little bit of a power dynamic to not sending a courtesy text first. Because why should I text you to ask if now is a good time to talk?! You're not Miranda fucking Priestly. I am!
Maybe this is just a me thing. I mean, I walk around New York and see Gen Z kids constantly on FaceTime - not even looking at the screen, just holding their phones up to their mouths like it's 2003 and they're on a Nextel Chirp. So maybe the spontaneous voice connection never actually died; it just evolved.
I think the only way to change people's perception of unexpected phone calls is by encouraging more people to get into the habit of cold-calling the homies.
I thought about you, so I called you.
It's really quite simple.
So here is my challenge to you. Cold call a homie today. If they don't respond, leave that voicemail to let them know that you were thinking about them. I promise it will brighten their day.