Make Zoom calls a bit racier and I might stay awake

IFELL asleep on a Zoom call yesterday. Fully sitting up, pen in hand. I only know this because I woke myself up snoring.

Then saw a message on the screen saying I had been removed from the meeting. Like some sort of reprobate.

I’m still mortified about it. As someone who makes a considerable chunk of their wages from giving Zoom talks, it’s a genuine fear of mine that I might put folks to sleep with my content.

Didn’t stop me snoozing, though, did it?

I feel so bad for the facilitators. But I have nothing to say in my own defence.

Well, not anything that would be deemed acceptable, anyhow.

I cannot see this situation being improved by my honesty.

“Sorry I caught some zzzs during your talky bit. I was tired and bored.”

Nobody wants to hear that! Oh, sure, people say they welcome the truth. And companies are forever sending feedback forms with that message.

What they really mean is flatter me, love me, and, most importantly, recommend me to others.

Which I feel duty-bound to do, now that I have been outed as a power napper, instead of a listener.

It should be illegal to make folk sit through dull video calls.

Not when we have been conditioned to expect entertainment from our screens.

How can the same technological device that delivers my favourite shows expect me to sit through an hour of Dave the Monotonous and his PowerPoint Presentation of tedium?

It’s just not right, I tell you! At the very least there should be some sort of soundtrack playing in the background, ramping up the drama with a few slow-build crescendos here and there.

I would also be keen on a

more in-depth storyline between the characters I am watching.

Like…do I detect a bit of a power struggle between Dave the Monotonous and Malcolm the Silent?

Or how about a little office romance?

OK, fine, the HR departments of most reputable companies do actually frown on such things, so maybe not.

Because let’s face it, it only takes 20 minutes to have a good old deek at everyone – casting an eye over their background and having a lil’ silent judging sesh about it.

That’s the absolute highlight of online events, as far as I am concerned, only matched by closely observing those who blur out their background. (Why, though? What are you hiding?)

Of course, if they move their heads or gesticulate too fast and the screen malfunctions enough, a few inches of forbiddenness is revealed around them.

Proper good eyeball tennis is that.

Mind you, I won’t have to worry about any of this if I keep being chucked out of the meetings.

Did you know you can’t even rejoin a meeting if you have been removed?

It’s like being barred from your local.

Not that I would ever fall asleep in there these days, such is the power of sobriety.

Oh, good lord, do you think they thought I was drunk?

I shall now add this to the ever-growing list of things to overthink today.

These online hang-outs seem to come with a whole new world of worries attached to them.

Two years ago I would never have had to worry about strangers watching me drool, or have had to expose my several chins to them as my slumbering head lolled from side to side.

Such is modern living. Technology is tiring.

And basic human interaction was never meant to be such a two-dimensional experience.