Phone Pause

It's amazing to me where the pauses in our conversations go. Face to face, the pauses go to our feet scuffing the dirt in an awkward manner trying to find a way to escape the lagging conversation. Sometimes we will laugh nervously and crack our knuckles when all else fails. A sure-fire way to end it is to look at your watch and acted shocked to see what the time is. Out of the blue you have appointments and deadlines to make. And so, the conversation ends. Instant messaging the only necessary element needed to end the weak conversation is the nack for telling believable lies.
Pretend you are chatting on the phone with your best friend. He has never been one for talking on the phone in the first place and you are gradually running out of things to ramble on about. However, the conversation must go on since it is the only viable form of communication you posses between you and the boy. Like a car heading towards a stop sign, you can sense the dreaded pause. Things decelerate until they stop. It is quiet. "Are you there?," he asks. You respond by telling him you are before the silence sinks in again. "Was it something I said?," he wonders. You tell him he said nothing wrong. He then asks the favored question of all questions: "Are you mad at me?" Once again you say no...you just don't feel like talking. This is his cue to panic. If she doesn't feel like talking, his world must be coming to a swift end. (Although this assumption is sometimes justifiable, believe it or not, men, women run out of air at one point and they might need a few days to re-fill.) The panic in his voice escalates to annoyance on your part.
Snide remarks are exchanged and before either of you know what has happened, you are in a spat. A spat because of the interpretation of a pause.
The moral of the story? Either keep the pauses to yourself, hang up before they come, or fill the silence by humming the newest Alanis Morrisette song.