Best memory of a cell phone encounter ~
I was standing in the drop-off-your-prescriptions-here line behind a young man on the phone, less then a foot in front of me. I heard him say, “No – I think we should stop seeing each other.” Geez – I cringed.
He said it again and I cringed again. Then he said, “I just don’t think we’re right for each other, sorry.”
I cudda’ died and I did back up a little.
His conversation got worse. He began listing his faults, asking her to please stop crying, but when he got to, “I’m not worth it” a woman in the prescription-pick-up line, (about 10 feet away from my line), who could hear this and had been catching my eye on and off during this conversation, and myself moved toward him simultaneously, completely unscripted, and shouted into that phone – “He’s not worth it – he’s breaking up with you in a drug store!”
A few folks on both lines applauded and the fellow hurried away without dropping off anything but his pride.
If talking on cell phones while driving is illegal in some states, talking while in a store, mall, parking lot, or anywhere else in public should be too!
Leaving the post office the other day, I noticed a piece of white, legal size paper between my car and another. Since it looked like of copy of a deed, I picked it up. Through black glass windows, I could just make out a man talking on the phone in the adjacent car and I tried to get his attention.
I tapped on the window, and holding up the paper, mouthed: “Yours?”
Well, he’s busy – on the phone. So I waited a few seconds and tapped again. He waved but I wasn’t sure he noticed the paper. I waited a little longer then tapped again. This time he waved but only with one finger.
Me – just being neighborly, for cryin’ out loud.
He – talking on a phone, in a car, in a public parking lot.
Well, I balled up that paper, threw it down where I found it, got in my car, backed out, and took off quicker than a New York minute. I certainly don’t have to take that from a stranger and a stranger on a phone, to boot!
That’s what really ticked me off – talking on a phone in a car!
As far as I’m concerned, phone courtesy died when Ma Bell did.
At one time, phones were a luxury, using one was a privilege that everyone, caller and call-ee, respected and acknowledged; I had to ask permission from my mom and dad to use the phone – the one and only phone in the house – attached to the wall!
Now, with independent phone companies in a different kiosk in every mall, they’ve not only given us variety, they’ve given each caller control – in a car or a checkout line. “Since I own it – I can use it,” seems to be the credo of most phone users today.
Cellulars, mobiles, portables, flip, photo, web-cam, email, internet, or blue tooth-in-your-ear phones – geez, I just threw out my baby-blue “Princess.”
My home phone rings from early morning ’til late evening with calls wanting me to buy, give, or donate something to people who think they’re my friends because they have my number.
I didn’t give my number to them – they bought it. That’s not respect, that’s invasion of privacy! Being respectful on a cell phone also means never hearing the flushing.
Just on GP/general principles, the idea of a phone in my car, in my pocket, in my purse, or in my face -annoys me. I don’t want to be reachable every minute of the day. When I’m driving, I try to concentrate on the road, as every other driver should.
My own cell phone is so unattached to anything, I never know where it is. I know where it’s supposed to be, but finding it is another story. And I’m constantly leaving it at home on the kitchen counter, after I’ve recharged it.
As I pulled away from the post office, the last thing I saw in my rear view mirror, was Mr. Mover and Shaker, standing by his car, smoothing out that wrinkled piece of paper. He probably has a cigarette-lighter portable plug-in FAX machine in the back seat – ugh !