With that said, I must say that it really pisses me off when I sip my coffee at the local Joe house, while the gal who sits at the adjacent table breaks up with her boyfriend on her cell phone. It also strikes a nerve when the “Big Important Guy” chats on his I-Phone and loudly directs the person on the other end to put file so-and-so in cabinet such-and-such or even that series of “uh huhs” and “yups” that emit from the haggard looking guy by the fireplace.
What bugs me so much about those cell phone calls? After all, I hardly notice the business deal closing at table C or the tweener slang tossed between the gum smackers who slurp double mochas on the adjacent sofa.
Is it because I resent technology? Well, no—I use a PDA phone myself.
Perhaps it stems from an absence of one piece of the social puzzle.
“WTF?” you may ask.
Okay, all that seems to exist is one side of the conversation. It’s like sitting in a lobby while the TV blares a movie or talk show. Though you may not care or pay much attention to the babble, you do notice that only half of the characters speak, while the others are muted. That absence of dialogue throws your normal sensors off balance cause it’s simply unnatural.
Now, you may think I’m nosey or overtly curious. Is it really my business what one person says in private to another on the phone?
Well—they are not in a private place. I say if you choose to be in public, you have also decided to open your piece of the world to whoever happens to be within earshot. Sure, a quick call from the office or Mom checking on your whereabouts is okay. Even the walk through Safeway, while your other half directs you to dinner fixin’s. That’s intent and purpose and doesn’t bother me. It’s the long and loud blather that chips away my tolerance shield.
To use a well-worn phrase, normally reserved for newly dating couples in public, “Get a room!”