Fuck Find Your Phone, Find Your Friends

Your phone will be there, but this moment won’t be.

Those who know me well must be cackling at the cheekiness of me broaching this subject. That’s because I notoriously lose my phone- particularly in my apartment oddly enough, but also at friends’ homes. It's literally impossible to overstate the frequency this mishap occurs. Seems like clockwork, on the hour. Surprisingly, no one has yet tallied them at the afters. Some might call this type of forgetfulness a “quirk,” but in actuality it’s more on the verge of annoying rather than cute. And that’s my perspective; for my friends I’m sure it’s much, much worse. Who wants to go on a repetitive scavenger hunt with no prizes or suspense. Because my phone sure as shit didn't walk away. It could be worse though. Myy mini freak out could be during a party, with me wandering around searching high and low shining the flashlight of a borrowed phone in a dark room (or even a darkroom). In hopes of not jinxing myself, I’ll stop there.

And then there’s phone use at parties. A contentious subject that folks debate time and time again. It might be a surprise to some, but I don’t think there’s a clear “right and wrong” when it comes down to it. Because what’s totally valid at one party could be completely rude and preposterous at another. The range of parties reaches far and wide, so it makes sense to have massive variance in both written and unwritten codes of conduct. It might be apparent like a sign or a speech at the door- and other times, lesser so. If it’s not clear, that doesn’t mean that it’s cool to use your phone- because it’s often implied. And that means it’s up to each of us to read the room. I don’t know anyone keen on making a party foul. So you alone need to decide whether you’re comfortable in the role of the party pooper perturbing the peace.

So how can we solve for this? Well- we’re adults and can self regulate the dancefloor, especially when it comes to something as trivial as phones. I know that it’s possible because it’s been the way of the dancefloor for decades. Dancers are fully capable of kindly letting others know they’re disruptive. And without third party intervention- which to be honest makes our nightlife playground feel more like well…a literal playground. And the perpetrator may or may not be responsive- but at least you tried.

All that being said, I’m not a fan of phones on the dancefloor, shocking right?! But I’m certainly still privy to whipping them out like everyone else. I straddle both sides of this fence. At times extremely annoyed and other times the annoyee in the equation. Though when I do use it, I very much try to step to the fringes of the floor. Regardless, my time glued to the phone creates an obtuse digital bubble, where I get lost in my own world, my mind a million miles away from my fellow dancers and friends. Hellooo, earth to me- for fucks sake I wrote “The Present is a Present” after all.

Ironically, my moments as the annoyee have substantially increased since I began my writing career. Because writing detracts from my dancing time. Music and dancing makes my mind move at a speed which rivals my fancy footwork. I’m a brainstorm dancing machine. I do admit, I’ve given myself plenty of hall passes on my self imposed guidelines. Which is hypocritical. What makes what I do more important than anyone else’s proclivities?!

I’ve been really missing the way uninterrupted dancing does my body and mind good. So it’s quite the conundrum. Because I want to capture my thoughts as much as I wanna dance. I recently came up with a solution that I wanted to share- because whether you write, are looking at your socials, Grindr or checking the weather- I’m sure many of us agree that we can all do with less distraction at times.

The DJ who changed my ear for music decades ago was in the groove- automatically catapulting me to the feelings of my early days. All I wanted to do was dance, but witty thoughts were calling at me to whip out my phone and get them down. I hemmed and hawed at the thought of stopping in my tracks as the tracks played and then a light bulb went off. Eureka. I challenged myself to not look at or touch my phone for 30 minutes. Which seemed like forever, sadly. And that if I really had to capture a thought, to write it down in my little notebook. I was suddenly back in my happiest of places, ears fully attuned to the music.

I couldn’t wait to put my new methodology to test at the next party. And wouldn’t you know it. The second go at it, I didn’t look at my phone for at least five hours. Maybe more. My friends were as gagged as was I. And on top of all the uninterrupted dancing, I had more fun with my friends and my thoughts were even better formulated for writing. This trajectory is definitely one I hope to make last longer and longer. So regardless of why you might reach for your phone- perhaps give a new cadence a try. You never know what goodness can arise from being present.