Cell Borg.

My cubicle at work is situated right next to the window that looks out into our main lobby. One of the advantages of this is I can satisfy my nosy nature by seeing everyone that is in and out of our office all day long, be it people off the street paying their bill or whatever, delivery men (DHL guy is my favorite) or businessmen in their three piece suits waiting to meet with the vice-president of the company. To me, it’s all eye candy.

One disturbing thing I saw today was an older gentleman who resembled Fred Flintstone. Unfortunately I couldn’t see if he was barefooted or not, but he had the facial features, haircut and build of Fred Flintstone. You could tell he wasn’t from Bedrock, however, because he had one of those annoying bluetooth cell phone earpieces in his right ear. He looked like he belonged on the enemy ship on Star Trek.

First of all, I have to ask, “Why?” Are people so self centered now that they feel they need to run around with this piece of gadgetry in their ear? “Look at me, I’m so important, I could be called at any moment and then I’ll totally disregard you and start talking to the thin air but I’m really talking into this wireless piece of a hardware in my ear.” How gauche. I mean really. I don’t care who you are, that attitude is just rude.

And why are the manufacturers of these things making them blink? Blink, blink. I’m busy. Blink, blink. Perhaps it’s to make them more festive for the holidays. “Oh look, Penny from Rochester has green and red LEDs in her ear and they’re blinking. She must be very smart and very important. At least she dressed up for the company Christmas party and wore her green and red earpiece.”

It’s bad enough that wireless technology has invaded public space to the point where everyone feels they can carry on a conversation with that oh so important person on the other end of the line and be totally oblivious to everyone around them. Why it was just last week that I overheard a conversation in JC Penney where this fairly unattractive woman was shrieking at her gynocologist because she needed an appointment for her yeast infection NOW! Now, do I really need to hear that while I’m browsing through the men’s department of a clothing store? During the supper hour? Please.

I kept my eye on this Fred Flintstone character in our lobby during his visit. He never got a call. His little blue LED never stopped blinking. He didn’t beam up to the mothership.

But he did look like an asshat.