Hang Up and Live

For lots of reasons, none of which I can really put a finger on or explain, like Leonard Shelby, I'm not a big fan of the telephone. I have a cell phone because of work; I have a house phone because, well, I'm an adult and I believe it's legally or socially required. Granted, it's VOIP, because I'm a geek, but still, it's a home phone. I have unlimited local and long distance on both the home and cell phone.

And no desire to use either.

The only person I routinely call is my daughter.

But all that aside ... in addition to Seinfeld being responsible for this country's staggering adult attention deficit disorder, I think the cellular telephone is the single worst invention to hit the market.

There are times and places to talk on your phone.

And, more importantly, NOT to talk on your phone.

And I'm not even talking about driving. (Hey, let's get distracted while operating a 10,000 vehicle at a high rate of speed. That's genius!)

And I'm not talking about standing beside someone shouting into their phone while I'm trying to hear a band.

Last night, after work, I stop at my local grocery retailer because I have no food in my apartment. Not unusual, but normally I at least have some consumables. I don't eat much - I had the stomach stapling surgery almost three years ago. I've lost over 100 pounds. I've lost 14 inches off my waistline. I've lost the need for my clothing size to have an X (or two, or three) before the L. I've lost a host of health problems. And I lost my relationship with food. All of which are good things.

But I'm there, getting the few things I do eat on a regular basis - vegetables, cereal (eat it dry, like a bag of chips - healthier and full of fiber!) bananas, some frozen pizza (because it's good!) ... and I go to make my way down the baking aisle because I'm trying to learn how to cook (stop laughing. All of you. Now.) this year.

That was when I realized, again, there are times in life to hang up and live.

If this was a Staples commercial, my Easy Button would disrupt cellular signals.

And no, I wasn't on the phone trying to get off the phone.

There was a smartly dressed woman standing in front of me. She had on the female version of the business suit - the skirt, blouse jacket combo. Accented by one of those cyborg devices growing out of her ear (I know it's bluetooth. My phone supports it. I just think those things look too Star Trek Borg for me to be comfortable with).

She was standing there, in the aisle, talking.

She was not facing the shelves to the left where the noodles are.

She was not facing the shelves to the right where the baking goods are.

She was standing, facing forward, in the center of the aisle.

Beside her buggy.

Blocking what's left of the the aisle.

Why was she standing there talking?

Apparently, moving forward, or backwards, put her in a bad cellular reception zone.

So she just stopped, in the middle of the aisle.

In front of me.

And said, "Can you hear me now? Okay. I'll just stand here for a minute then."

Now if she was talking business or breaking up fight between her kids - I'd be okay with that.


She was discussing details of her life that should not be spoken of in public - let alone in a grocery store.

Details I have no desire to hear.

What was the Carlos Mencia line? "I don't wanna know what goes on down there. Sometimes I eat at that restaurant."

And yeah, she was edible.

So I don't wanna know what goes on down there.

Talking about yeast in the baking aisle is a good thing.

Talking about a yeast infection, however, is not.

So I say excuse me to try to get through. She doesn't move.

So I lean forward and say it again. She. Doesn't. Move.

I make noise with my buggy to alert her gabby ass that someone needs to get beyond her stopping point and out of range of her conversation.

She turns around to glare at me for making noise that apparently disrupted her conversation.

But. Still. Doesn't. Move.

So I turn around and go back the way I came.

Realizing how much I hate cell phones.

And the idiots who don't know where and when to use them, and what to talk about in public on them.

No comments: