WHY I WON’T CONNECT WITH SPAMLEY BOTKINSON

“And what would you like, sir?” said the imaginary waiter in my head.

“I’d like WhatsApp to give me the option of joining a group and seeing who else is in it before I and my phone number get added to it,” I said.

It’s a simple fix. A box appears when you next open WhatsApp and it says:

“Taffy McPherson would like to add you to the ‘Small Garden Society’ group. Would you like to review?”

Yes! Ooh Taffy, Franco, Percy, Melinda, Jeff Concrete and Spamley Botkinson? No, WhatsApp, I’m clicking no.

Then old Taffy (and only Taffy) gets a message to say that you declined the invitation. Because that is what it was - an invite…

I mean imagine a club that a small section of your friends, and some randos, go to. Then one day, you’re minding your own business when Taffy throws a bag over your head and drags you out of Sainsbury’s. Next thing you know you wake up in a tree house, surrounded by people who’ve written your address in their little notebooks. Oh and they want to talk about begonias and what type of soil you need to rehome a spider plant.

Sure you can leave. It’s awkward, but you can leave any time you like.

I know. Zuckerberg won’t do it - it’s probably technically complicated, plus it goes against some principle about not stopping people connecting or something - obviously they want to maximise and streamline that, makes it far more likely that I’ll join the Small Gardens flumpbook page or follow Spamley Botkinson on Instagram.

Well. Let’s normalise leaving WhatsApp groups we’ve been press-ganged into. And yes, family chats included I say. I mean I can’t leave mine, obviously. There’d be nobody left to make tumbleweed jokes that get no reaction. Nevertheless I say WhatsApp groups need to earn their keep in my list of things that ping at me!

For some reason the imaginary waiter has the voice of Stephen Fry. I can’t imagine he’d mind purging his WhatsApp groups. He’s got a lot of pressure to be permanently clever and witty, and I suspect, zero tolerance on spurious nonsense from loose acquaintances.

“Very good, sir,” he says, bowing away, a serving towel folded neatly over his arm. I doubt WhatsApp will make it happen though.