Cells

Maybe I’m easily annoyed (okay, I know I’m easily annoyed). But, in the sea of pet peeves, I think a new one has finally taken sole control of number 1: people talking on their cell phones in public places.

Like, oh, trains. Let me contextualize it for you. The woman ahead of me is talking on her phone, and not only does she seem oblivious to other people sitting next to her (and, thus, she’s talking as if her talking partner is deaf), but she is apparently catching up on conversation she’s neglected to have for several years. This person is someone in her family, someone she will see in less than an hour when she gets off the train (I know this because of the aforementioned decibel level of her voice). But, thank God for cellphones, because now she can talk to her heart’s content. I mean, I figured since we were in the nowhere border land between Arkansas and Texas, there would be no cell phone service. No such luck.

I don’t think I can imagine something more insensitive and rude than this recent pastime. Cell phones are beautiful pieces of technology (for the most part), connecting us to others instantly in ways never before imagined. It’s not enough, however, that we can talk to virtually anybody, but we must do so at any time we damn well please. On the bus, in the car, in the waiting room, wherever. Whenever. It doesn’t matter who is around us, or how loud we are, or how long we talk. The world is our phone booth.

There are calls we must take, I understand. And I love how my cell phone can connect me to so many people. But sometimes I long for the time when people had to be in a phone booth or specific room in their house in order to talk on the phone – probably with a door that closes, since many cellphone-istas seem to not care at all about privacy, and talk as if nobody can hear them.

I can hear you. And it’s annoying.