Greetings, Inquisitive Minds!
I, like you, had great hopes when I first heard of 1-800-2-Cha-Cha.
Wait, everyone here knows what 1-800-2-Cha-Cha is, right? If not, grab a chocolate frosted cupcake and a dixie cup full of apple juice, kids, and gather 'round for today's lesson on pop culture. Then Miss Monica will tell you why 1-800-2-Cha-Cha is bullsh*t (that's a great compound word to memorize, by the way).
1-800-2-Cha-Cha is, quite simply, the number to call when you're out drunk with your friends, and suddenly need to know the answer to a burning question. Here's ChaCha's official explanation of how it works:
"ChaCha is conversational, fun, and easy to use. Simply ask your question like you are talking to a smart friend and ChaCha’s advanced technology instantly routes it to the most knowledgeable person on that topic in our Guide community. Your answer is then returned to your phone as a text message within a few minutes."
Talking to a smart friend? THE MOST KNOWLEDGEABLE person on that topic? Gee whiz! What could be better than this!
So, at an unnamed time in the not-so-distant past, I decided to give ChaCha try. I called and was immediately greeted with an automated female voice, friendly and spunky:
"Hi! What's your question?"
I covered up my mouth a bit, because I was surrounded by people on the #174 bus, which suddenly seemed a little quieter than usual.
"I want to know if I'm pregnant," I said cautiously, adding my age and the first date of my last menstrual cycle in case it mattered, and then hung up.
Within 30 seconds, I received the following text message:
"Wait one week and then do a home pregnancy test."
Are you kidding me? What do you think I am, a freakin' retard? Those smug, useless bastards. Thanks for your help, ChaCha. NOT.
Five minutes later, I had a better idea, a different brilliant question to stump them. And actually, I was more than a little curious about what answer they might give. So I called back.
"Hi! What's your question?"
"I want to know if I'll ever have a living, breathing baby," I said. "I'm thirty two years old, and I've had one stillbirth and one miscarriage. Oh yeah, and that was me that just called a few minutes ago."
I hung up and waited eagerly. This one took a little longer. Two minutes later, I got the following text:
"ChaCha is working on your question."
SWEET! By this point, you can imagine how excited I was. I mean seriously - this could very well determine my entire future life, my world view starting today, my total outlook on life. Go home and immediately get four more Westi-poo puppies and cash out that little send-our-kids-to-study-abroad savings account for a stainless steel refrigerator? Or start perusing strollers online again?
Finally, I got an answer:
"It probably isn't feasible to discuss this topic over text messaging."
It was embarrassingly disappointing, this response, and now I'm still left to wonder. Underwhelming and bland. So much for 1-800-2-ChaCha, aka 1-800-2-Bullsh*t.
Oh, and for the record, I'm not knocked up.