the "can-I-call-you-back" phenomenon

As I've people watched throughout work and walks downtown, I've noticed that quite a few people answer their phone just to say they're busy, and can they call that person in five minutes, because they really can't talk right now. It astounds me that everyone who does this--of all ages, mind you--fails to see the irony of picking up their phone in the first place. Unless a vicious tiger has intruded the other person's house (in which case, I hope someone would drop their grocery shopping, or library going, or caffeine searching to go help this person), surely the call can go to voicemail. I know, how very 'nineties of me to suggest. The last time I listened to an entire voicemail, I'd just finished listening to the Backstreet boys on my walkman. Just kidding, I think it wsa 'N Sync. But even a quick text is sufficient if you're asking your mother to pick up some milk. Answering your phone just to say you can't answer your phone is like greeting the UPS guy with dripping hair and a towel wrapped around you and saying, "I'm sorry, I'm in the shower right now, but if you'll just stand there for five minutes, I'll be ready to take that package." He can either stand there like a doofus for the next five minutes, or he can leave the package by your door. Telling people you're too busy to talk kind of defeats the purpose; you could ignore the social networking beeps and tweets and texts and tumbles for just a second to finish your task. I'm sure your parents will still have time in a few hours to make sure you've paid your bills and eaten your vegetables. Use your "I'm busy" time to inhale some brussel sprouts before your mother calls. Because she knows. She always knows.