Evil Phones
June 6, 2007
I have a mobile phone. I love it. I sometimes take it out and just stare at it and smile because it makes me happy. I’m addicted to technology and I love things that are available now, when they seemed like such science-fiction not that long ago.
Anyhow, I’m already very tired of the phones that are also mp3 players since the music can be played through the phone like a call on speaker. Which means the mp3 is coming out tinny and distorted. Typically distorted more because the wielder of the phone has the volume up loud enough that everyone on the bus can enjoy the latest rap tunes.
“I love that song,” I said to Kitti while the distorted noise filled the bus. “I think it’s the one about bitches and money”.
I guess these phones are the new “it” thing. The new status symbol. Look, ma! I have enough cash to not only get a phone, but I can afford to keep it stocked with the latest and the greatest!
I have actually paid for a ringtone for my phone. Just a ringtone, mind. Not the whole bloody song. Just a short clip of a song. It doesn’t matter though, because my phone is almost always on vibrate. With several dozen people on a bus or a train carrying phones it’s hard to hear the ringing over the ringing/bleeping/broadcasting of everyone else’s. So it goes on vibrate and it goes in my pocket and I can feel it when I get a call or a text.
Kitti got a phonecall today while we were on the bus. It rolled over to voicemail. He checked it and called his friend back. Kitti is a very soft talker (though he can project to the back row when he needs to). Reggie is even quieter. They had their whole conversation at an almost sub-sonic level. I was sitting right next to Kitti and I could barely hear a word he said.
Point? They were both on mobile phones. Reggie is quiet. Kitti is quiet. Kitti never resorted to yelling or raising the volume of the phone. So why does everyone else in the world feel the need to shout their conversations?
Dear total stranger: I do not wish to hear about your most recent surgery/stint in rehab/arrest. I’m similarly uninterested in hearing about anyone’s baby daddy/momma or how you’re going to “slap the shit outta that bitch” the next time you see her. Please keep it to yourself. Thanks.
One Response to “Evil Phones”
Remind me to tell you the one about my co-worker in a cubicle who called her GYN and talked loudly about the discharge she was having, and whether or not she needed to wash her sheets only in hot water or if she should add bleach.
Yup.
I’ll tell you that story. Just as soon as I stop throwing up.
By Lorena on Jun 9, 2007