Call me a traditionalist but to me, there’s nothing wrong with good ole iMessage. Don’t get me wrong, Whatsapp groups are my life. The safe haven you can turn to, to share hopes, dreams and dick pics. But as a single girl, trying to make her way in the dating world, Whatsapp is a mine of mindfuckery. Here are a few of its little nuances that drive me round the bend…
I realise this picture has nothing to do with Whatsapp
The single grey tick. Has the fucker blocked me? Or has his phone turned off? Maybe he’s somewhere with no signal, LIKE A DATE SOMEWHERE UNDERGROUND.
The Double grey tick. Y u no read my message? We were mid-bantz and I just zinged you with the flirtiest of put downs. WHERE DID YOU GO? Also, don’t double grey tick me when we’re mid sext. I don’t like to be left hanging.
The Double Blue tick. A phrase now firmly in the modern vernacular – ‘The bastard blue ticked me.’ Which translates to, ‘I’ve asked you a question, you’ve read it, why have you not replied for 5 hours?’
Online. Well pal, if you’re online, why aren’t you replying? WHO ARE YOU MESSAGING?
Typing. This single word can either send feelings of sheer joy or abject horror running down your spine. It either means Bae is writing you a lovely message OR you’re mid argument and are about the have the rug pulled beneath you.
The accidental call. I’m only trying to look at your profile picture for the 1584th time. Why do my thumbs betray me so that I begin calling you?
The autosaved media. My sister doesn’t want to see a picture of your torso mid Vegas holiday photo swipes.
Last Online. The single time stamp that can put anyone in a rage. Y u been online, read my message and then not replied though?
The shame of blue ticking someone immediately because you were rereading old messages/waiting not so patiently for a reply.
Last but not least, who else hates those people who can only be described as the ‘Whatsapp pros’. The ones that have every piece of information or status hidden. HOW ARE YOU REPLYING WHEN MY MESSAGE IS STILL GREY TICKED? Snakes.
*hopes any future dates that read this understand my sense of humour and don’t realise I’m a completely bunny boiler. That shit becomes obvious 6 months down the line.*