Where's The Gun Emoji?: 14 Struggles Of Being A Fast Texter

by Jessica Wendroff

I'm a fast texter. When I get a text, I respond almost automatically. Unless it's a f*ckboy.

My phone has practically become another appendage. It's so easily accessible that I see my texts immediately. And since I am a very quick thinker and love the art of conversation, when my phone buzzes, it's game-the-f*ck-on.

I absolutely love seeing those three little dots make their way onto my gold iPhone. Watching them go in and out excites me like a child waiting for a lollipop to be unwrapped. In fact, those three dots are my texting foreplay. Then, BUZZ -- ahhh, the climax of the actual text. And then it's my turn to return the favor. It's like a different form of phone sex.

And -- also like sex -- if I notice that someone (whether it's a guy or a friend) isn't "textually compatible," I will slam that person with the waving-goodbye emoji. I mean, hello, I sent you a text, not a f*cking carrier pigeon.

There are so many struggles that fast texters suffer on the regular:

1. People assume we have no lives.

The people we text think we're always available. Um, excuse me -- just because we text fast doesn't mean we're not busy. We're just courteous enough to respond in a timely manner.

2. We're impatient.

Why isn't this person answering my text? Is he/she skydiving right now? That is the only acceptable excuse.

Where is the gun emoji, in-f*cking-deed.

3. We always know you saw our text.

Text was seen. Seen. F*cking seen?! WHAT?!?! Did you just die from a heart attack of happiness because I texted you, or did you fall off a cliff while taking a selfie?

Stop being a little bitch and RESPOND to me!

I won't think you're any cooler when you wait 10 minutes to reply. I will think you're superficial and a drag.

4. We worry about our friends' well-beings when they don't text us back.

Me: Text me when you get home, OK?

Friend: OK, will do.

5. We lose interest quickly.

Conversations with us are like the live VMAs: The conversation had its time and place, and you missed it. Bye!

6. We occasionally try to resist responding quickly... and fail. Obviously.

When we meet a new guy or girl we like, we make sure we wait long enough before texting back.

But, oops, it's just not in us to wait. Text sent. Goddamn it.

At least we tried, right?

7. We're constantly waiting.

Why can no one get on our level? Why? I swear I didn't send a letter. Instant messaging should be INSTANT.

8. If we're in a relationship... forget about it. We analyze every silence.

Why hasn't Tommy responded to me? Is he with another b*tch right now? I bet he's banging that slore from the gym. I saw that heifer look at him when he re-racked. I wonder if someone will help me hide his lifeless body after I murder him and pop that girl's boobs with a fork.

Is there hydrofluoric acid on Amazon?

Mmm, better try eBay.

9. We lose it when we see the three dots go away.

YOU ALMOST DID IT. YOU ALMOST RESPONDED. You textually teased us and pulled out. We hate you. Die.

10. Sexting can be a nightmare.

I need my sexts nowwwwww, not three hours from now. Just send me the sweat emoji. That's all I ask.

11. If people don't respond, we worry they don't like us anymore.

I thought Rachel and I had a great time talking sh*t about our co-workers on Friday. Maybe I did something wrong without knowing it?

Oh nope, she just responded.

12. We usually have to text a bunch of people at the same time.

Because you're taking too long, as usual, and I need to vent... as usual.

13. We write long responses so quickly but wait lifetimes for one sentence.

Why, God, why have you blessed us with this ability? Why can't other people move their thumbs faster? Did they just break off within the last millisecond? I know you're just naked in your bed binge-watching Netflix, Carol.

14. We'll never understand people who aren't like us.

How people can respond days later without feeling any anxiety or guilt? We fast texters will never know.

But after dealing with people who text like they've had their fingers amputated, we find our textual soulmate. And it is game-f*cking-on once more.