Contrary to the alliterative title of this post, I don’t generally consider myself an old-fashioned girl. I prefer electric washing machines to a washboard, I enjoy a good combustion engine to get me places, and I’ve been known to enjoy the company of a portable music player for nigh on 30 years. But I REALLY don’t like cell phones.
I don’t know what it is about cell phones that make people so insane. Since when is anyone so important that leaving a message to be returned later is not acceptable? I’m a busy woman with a full life – I have family, friends, clients, employers, and a Cowboy who all sometimes talk to me – but I don’t know of anyone except the BB’s whose life may depend on my answering my cell phone. In fact, some of you may be surprised to even hear that I have a cell phone, and those of you who do know certainly don’t depend on reaching me on it.
Granted, I am not someone who considers being accessible 24/7 a plus. One of my favourite modern conveniences is Caller ID, followed closely by voice mail. Unless I gave birth to you, it’s okay with me if we have a little space so I can get back to you when I’m done whatever it is I’m doing. Yes, it’s anti-social and a little bit control freaking. Love me or leave me alone - ha. But self-sequestering aside, there’s something very odd about people’s behaviour with cell phones.
And yet it’s common place that people answer their phones in absolutely any circumstance – making plans while driving (duh!), doing business in a restaurant, discussing last night’s sexcapades in the grocery story, and (my LEAST favourite!) interrupting a conversation with a present person to talk to someone on the phone. Trust me, people, you’re not that important, and your conversation is not so interesting that I want to be subjected to it.
As I write this post, I am enjoying the supposed quiet of BC Ferries’ SeaWest Lounge, a supposed quiet that Cowboy has paid $20 for us to have access to. And one of the three other people in this CLEARLY posted cell-phone free/quiet zone has been on his cell-phone for at least 35 of the 45 minutes we’ve been on the boat thus far. There are nicely worded ‘no cell-phone’ postings on the door, the snack table, and every table in the lounge. Yet this man – who I’m sure is perfectly nice otherwise – feels it’s necessary to continue his conversations. And, it’s not bad enough that I have to listen to that, but I also get to placate a disgruntled Cowboy, who mutters about passive-aggressive retaliation, but so far the grumblings have come to naught except one more thing for me to ignore.
So there you go. People with cell phones are rude. Cowboy’s grumbling. And I’m ranting about it all. I guess maybe there’s enough anti-social fingers to go around.