So, I’m out in the shop this morning, carving filigree into my latest masterful work of art (yes, yes, I’ll post some pictures sooner…or later. Don’t beg, it’s unseemly) and the phone rings. It’s my son calling from school, he’d forgotten his PE clothes and could I bring them up? Argh! This kind of stuff really cuts into my retired time. Anyway, I find the clothes, run up to school, have a nice chat with the office ladies, and as I’m heading back out the front door I see a woman approaching. So I do the thing where you hold the door open for somebody because it’s the friggin’ polite thing to do… and she breezes right past me chatting on her cell phone. Not a word of thanks, not a little smile to say she appreciated it, not a nod of acknowledgment. And there I am, doing the Must. Not. Make. Fist. Of. Death. dance.
Okay here’s the thing. I spent most of my adult life defending the Constitution of the
Today: Don’t be a dick with a cell phone:
Your conversations are exactly that, your conversations. The people around you have the right to be left out of it. If your phone can’t pick up your voice at anything below 80dB, then get one with a more sensitive mic. Anybody caught loudly discussing their OB/GYN exam or their intestinal polyps on a cell phone in the frozen food isle will be forced to wear an orange helmet with a light on top that flashes out “I’m a dick” in Morse code. Your conversations are exactly that, your conversations – unless you use the “walkie talkie” function in public, then you are including the people around you in the conversation by involuntary default. Since you’ve now made your conversation their conversation, they are highly encouraged to participate by making orgy noises. If the gist of the conversation appears to be conservative republican style topics, participants are encouraged to make gay orgy noises. If the conversation appears to be more Democrat in nature, participants should make noises as if they are slaughtering an endangered species of their choice. When in line at the cashier, you have a responsibility to the people behind you. Hang up and pay for your shit in a prompt and courteous fashion. Then take your booty and go outside before resuming your conversation, otherwise the person directly behind you in line is permitted to slap you in the back of the head, hard. After which the cashier will taze you repeatedly until your cell phone battery catches fire. Shut up and drive. No Seriously. Otherwise you will be locked in your car with rabid baboons and a cell phone with just enough battery power for one, fifteen second phone call. If you can connect to the 911 operator maybe you’ll live, if not, too dammed bad. Anyone caught using a cell phone during an elementary school recital, public movie, concert, or sex will be punished by having the offending cell phone set to vibrate, wrapped in barbed wire, and inserted into an orifice chosen by the audience. Under no circumstances, up to and including a life threatening emergency, will cell phone use be permitted while the user is relieving him or herself. Ever. And finally, if someone holds a door open for you, stop talking on the phone for a minute, nod thanks or the Fist Of Death will be unleashed.