Remember life before cell phones? People smiled to strangers in the elevator instead of playing Candy Crush. You could pretend to be lost, ask a hot girl for directions then invite her to a “Chicks drink free happy hour.” When you jumped off that two story building thirty million people didn’t watch you break your pelvis on YouTube. Life was good.
Now there are now more cell phones than people in the world. Only cab drivers are capable of using two cell phones simultaneously and those guys took years of practice to get good at it. Let’s dive into the other types of cell phone wrongdoers.
Your Typical Abusers
Miss. Ringtone—I didn’t know phones still had these.
Mr. Xanac—It is ten pm. The party is happening like the drunken beach house scene in Weekend at Bernie’s. Everyone is laughing and meeting new people– except one guy. He sits on a stool in the corner thumbing through his three friends on his MySpace account. He wonders why his life looks more like Tom Hanks in Castaway than the guy in a Nicholas Sparks novel.
Mrs. Ansel Adams—When people used to use film to take pictures, it meant something. You only had twenty-four snapshots per roll; not 8,000 pictures combined with sixteen hours of video on your iPhone9. You made every picture count. You didn’t take pictures of fireworks on the Fourth of July, every time your kid spit up, or rapid fire shots of your friends throwing back that tenth shot of Skol vodka. Here’s a tip: Live in the moment, you might enjoy it.
Mr. Bluetooth—You, Mrs. Blackberry and your kid Flip Phone should all get a room.
Ms. Tears For Fears: “Shout, shout, let it all out”—Because you bought one of the bottom-shelf Cricket phones don’t make the rest of us listen to you as you attempt to yell from Newark to Kansas City.
Mr. Big Deal—It is no longer 1988. Talking loud on your cell phone as you walk down the street wearing the free suit from the Men’s Warehouse ‘Buy 1, Get 3 Free Special’ makes you obnoxious, not Gordon Gekko.
The Waze App—Drivers of this century know you can’t text and drive. Apparently, it is still ok to fumble around with your phone as you confirm an accident or police presence while flying down the highway at eighty mph.
Mrs. Mulit-tasker—Conversations with these people are like you watching the Super Bowl in real time while your neighbors are on a fifteen-second delay. They just can’t catch up. This is how the conversation goes [the whole time them clicking away on their phone]
You: “Blah, blah, blah”
You: “As I was saying, blah, blah, blah”
Her: “Sure, sounds good”
[she finally looks up from phone giving you her full attention]:
Her: “Wait, wait, no. I’m not going to have a four way with you, my sister, and an escort to be named later.”
Mr. Britannica—”Wait, I’ll look it up. It will just take second,” this person needs to verify every friendly, bar argument with Wikipedia. Everyone stands around listening to seconds of their life waste away until Eager Beaver can verify the five tertiary reasons why the Peloponnesian War lasted as long as it did.
This Must Stop
I’m organizing a protest next Tuesday at the National Mall: “Cell Phones Have To Go”. I’m not going to be there, but if you could go on my behalf, that would be super.