So I have a dear friend who shall remain nameless. Let's just go ahead and refer to her by the alias "Jess." I adore my dear friend Jess. We spent many a hellacious hour together in some rather horrifying classes. We suffered through and miraculously passed our senior thesis course together. Once, we drove to the god-forsaken land of Delta and visited quite possibly the most lackluster museum in Utah. Once upon a time, many years ago I took her on a date to get sushi. I had all kinds of a mad crush on her, and she subsequently rejected me. Once we drove to Salt Lake and test drove a car. Upon returning said car to the owner, I broke off the handle/lever that opens the hood. We later found my current car together. Many memories, Jess and I share.
There has however, been one consistent thorn in the side of our relationship. A horrible little creature gnawing away at the sinews of our friendship. This lilliputian abomination takes a very simple, yet nefarious form.
Two words. Well, actually a compound word, followed by another word.
Ugh. Every single time I call my dear Jess, I am greeted by the spine curdling "Oh baby...If I was your lady...I would make you happy..." Some horrible country wench, searing those words and that awful tune into my cerebellum, thus causing seizures and involuntary projectile vomiting.
Here's the thing. It isn't so much the actual song itself, as much as the vile, leeching nature of it. It seriously ensconces itself inside your head for sometimes hours, even worse than the ice cream song. There is no escape. And I do this weird thing where I involuntarily (my mind just does this on its own) change the lyrics of a song stuck in my head to something ultra random and ultimately annoying. Jess's (can you do that, 3 s's in a row?) tune morphs into, "Oh beaver...I would be your Deaver..." at which point I usually mentally yell at myself to shut up. Beaver because I love that word. Deaver, from this elementary teacher that I did "service" for during two weeks of, ironically, a course Jess and I took together.
Let me also clear up something real quick. I realize that the word "beaver" to many immature folk caries a dirty connotation. To be completely and absolutely honest, I love the word beaver. Especially when combined into something like, "beaver chunk." To me, this word has absolutely zero filthy connotations. So if you think of it in a dirty way, that is your problem, not mine.
Anyhow, at times I will go a period of time without ever calling dear Jess. Then, for some reason I will have to/desire to call her and then...wham! Punched in the ear by the decaying fist of vengeance. I always forget about that wretched ringtone until it is too late. So I was driving back to Provo from Nephi on Saturday evening. I was exhausted after a day of mountain biking/manual labor. I began to drowsily nod off. I decided to call my dear Jess, in hopes of a pleasant conversation to help stay the somnolent state into which I was quickly descending. Instead of Jess's sweet voice, I was greeted by that most repugnant of tunes, the antithesis of all that is wonderful and good--her ringtone. Upon being prompted to leave her a message, I stated that I had forgotten about that wretched ringback tone, and vowed that I would never ever call her again as long as she still had it, so help me God.
Am I overreacting? Seriously, if I am the only person who is absolutely annoyed by ringback tones I'll piss off and never bring it up again. I don't care what song it is, or how much I once may have even liked it. Having to hear the same 22 second slice every time I call someone is annoying in the extreme. Even worse, the person who opts to have the ringback tone as a part of their plan, yet neglects to acquire a song for it, thus forcing their callers to enjoy some classical tune. Which means, this person saw fit to pay the extra money each month for the service, yet wasn't willing to pony up the extra buck for an actual song. So irritating. I suppose that the classical is better than being ear raped by some emo crap that leaves me with the desire to cut myself after I hang up. Because they didn't answer. Because they never answer. Because they don't like me, because nobody likes me. Where's my blade??
But seriously, some input here would be great. I would love to know if I am the only one that finds ringback tones to be an ultra annoyance. And I'll shut up about it. Seriously.
Lastly, let me also clear up that, moments after I had left my dear Jess that message, she demanded via text that I call her. After refusing for fear she was merely trying to trick me into listening to it again, I finally called her and was greeted by glorious ringing. She is a wonderful person, and a better friend than I deserve. Thank you, my dear Jess, for having the kindness to spare me further insanity.