Received this text message the other day.
It'll be lovely to meet up and pray together. We should go down to the beach sometime and admire God's creation. I can't wait! Love, Paul.
I was quite startled by such a zealous invitation, intriguing though it was. But I can only guess at Paul's reaction upon realizing he'd sent his message to the wrong person. "Wrong number, bible boy," was my terse reply. Interrupt my toast eating at your peril. About half an hour later -- long enough, perhaps, for him to pick himself off the floor -- came an embarrassed yet civil apology "Oooops! Sorry! I hope I get the right one next time."
To be fair to Paul, he might not be much chop with dialing numbers, but at least he's good with punctuation and grammar. The same message sent in that hideous text-speak would have been more than a little unsettling.