You can’t help but laugh along with the inimitable Phyllis Diller.
July 30, 2008
I own an iPhone. I use it a lot. I don’t talk on it so much, rather, I update my Twitter and check my e-mail and chat with various people through the built in chat mechanisms. I try not to be obnoxious with my phone, but I admit that I can be from time to time. I usually get a “look” from Earl when I get that way. I have important things to say to important people.
Anyways, I find people yakking on their cell phone in public spaces to be obnoxious. Where is it written that people should carry on mundane, ordinary conversations whilst standing in the middle of a restaurant? I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a cell phone for a really long time or what, but I always thought that a cell phone was for important, earth-shattering conversations. “My wig is on fire.” “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” “I’ve ran the car out of oil and it isn’t moving now.”
“What are you doing?” in a monotone, uninterested voice is not a conversation to have on your cell phone while standing in the middle of Wendy’s, balancing a Big Gulp on a tray loaded with fat with a newspaper wedged under your smelly armpit. I resisted the urge to bump into the tray by mistake. I would have forgiven her if her wig was on fire.
While Earl and I were enjoying our quick lunch at said Wendy’s today, I noticed that there were 11 people talking on their phone out of the 30 or so in the restaurant. Three of them were at the same table. I envisioned them in a conference call with one another.
I tried calling my friend Greg the other day at lunch time. The call went to his voice mail. A little while later I got via text, “I couldn’t talk, I was in a restaurant.” Now that is the type of response that I would expect. I’m glad he didn’t yak at me with his mouth full. That would be improper.
So the next time you see me in a restaurant and I happen to be talking on my phone, slap it right out of my hand and declare “Practice what you preach.”
Unless my wig is on fire.