First, no one can hear me through the crappy earpiece, which, due to some anti-cell phone ear birth defect, does not fit. In fact, none have ever fit. This is how I know it is me. My grossly misshapen ear canals attempt to eject anything I put in, near, or around them, forcing me to hold the earpiece with one hand and the microphone with the other, effectively rendering me a paraplegic as once I settle into a position that works, I cannot move. I used to like cleaning or working while on the phone -- at least I could be productive, but now that's out.
Balancing the phone between my shoulder and ear is also out. The touch screen is so sensitive that my face invariably disconnects the call. (Not to mention that I don't want to throw my neck into spasms -- which HAS happened -- or get brain cancer, all highly motivating factors forcing me to use the also hated, but better option of speakerphone.)
Typical conversation:OR my face presses the mute button, adds a conference call, redials the previous number and enters my voicemail pin before hanging up on my victim.
Me: And that was the diagnosis.
Me: It was piles.
Friend: I can't hear you.
Me (shouting): Piles!
Friend: It sounds like you're in a tube surrounded by cotton. Piles of what?
Me: Hemorrhoids! That's what he was dealing with.
Friend: Are you on your earpiece again?
Me: *sigh* yes. Here, I'll remove it. Hold on. Ok, that better?
Try this four times in a row and see how often YOU still want to talk.
So, if I haven't called you, this is why.