"How rude!" --S. Tanner

Yesterday afternoon, we are in the small conference room (cozily fits ~25 people) to hear an invited speaker.

Before she begins her presentation, she asks if anyone has any general questions within her area of expertise.

One person in the audience, we'll call him Binky, asks a question.

Madam speaker begins to answer the question. She is about 2 1/2 sentences into her answer when Binky's cell phone rings softly. He answers the cell phone.

Now the only sound in the room is the voice of Madam speaker and the whispering of Binky into his cell. It's bad enough when people are looking at text messages while supposedly in conversation with you.*

As you know, there is nothing more distracting than someone whispering. People turn towards Binky, annoyed. Binky keeps the conversation going.

After another few sentences, Madam Speaker grinds to a halt mid-sentence and says: Aren't you the one who asked the question?!

Someone elbows Binky and he says: I'm sorry. It's my son. He's having a problem.

He smiles, as if that explains everything, and walks out of the room, talking into his cell phone the whole time.

Niiiice.

That's how to represent the organization well.

Jeez Louise, Binky. Either it's an emergency, in which case you explain it's an emergency and excuse yourself as soon as the phone rings or it's not an emergency in which case you turn your phone off.



* Okay, I am rather addicted to checking my (noiseless) messages/email on my phone but I try to be a bit discreet about it at work and I refuse to do it in social settings. At work, the old hold-the-phone-under-the-table-edge-while-you-check-it is a popular, although fairly transparent, gambit.**

** Okay, okay. I have briefly checked my messages in social settings when visiting the ladies room. Hey, you might as well be productive while you wait in line.***

*** I am a first-class rationalizer.

Are You Talkin to ME?!?? (Responding in kind)

I am not above shrieking in the metro.

Let me explain. Hubby and I both tend to react to noise the same way: most of it is unnecessary and irritating. It isn't all that unusual for the two of us to sit in the same room in amicable silence for an hour or so. Sure, we talk gobs, but we don't HAVE to talk. You know? We can simply enjoy the silence.

So when we are trapped with unnecessarily noisy people, it gets old very quickly. The difference between hubby and I is he, being the polite fellow he is, will whisper something discretely to me about the jackass making all the noise and I'll sometimes just respond in kind to said jackass. Dangerous, I know, and I'm not suicidal--I'll size up the offender and sometimes have the sense to let it go--but sometimes one good yawp deserves another.

This is particularly a pattern with loud (sometimes drunk, sometimes not) cell phone people. And let's face it the phrase "loud cell phone people" is redundant. As they get louder, I get louder. Sometimes I even answer their questions loudly. You know, in a public service effort to let them know that EVERYbody can hear them asking about their gonorrhea test. Often, amazingly, they never even notice.

We had to run an errand at Pentagon City Mall about a month ago. If you've been, you know that the elevators are small, glassed in, and always oversubscribed. Still, for whatever reason, that day we decided to ride the elevator. Now remember it's small and it's packed. And elevator etiquette dictates that we don't make eye contact. JoeCellPhone is one of the 7 people crammed in and decides this is a good time to carry on his call at TOP VOLUME. Everyone else is silent. I started laughing. It was so absurd. We were trapped listening to his inane conversation at painfully loud pitch. I looked at JoeCellPhone and started laughing louder. I caught another person's eye and they started laughing. Before we knew it we were laughing our asses off. Big, braying donkey laughter. Again, JoeCellPhone never even realized we were laughing at him. He just continued on his merry way.

The other night we were on the metro and sitting immediately behind us were a teenage couple and the woman was on the phone. It went something like this:
Loudyoungwoman (LYW): Are you on the same train we are?
LYW: Where are you?
LYW: WE just passed Reagan Airport. Are you on the same train we are?
LYW: Oh my god. Where are you?
LYW: You're on the yellow line?
LYW: You must be on the same train we are!
LYW: Are you on the same train we are? I don't see you.
LYW: This is so freaky. John, my parents are on the same train we are.
John: Where are they?
LYW: John can't believe it either. Where are you?
LYW: They're on THIS train!
John: I don't see them.
LYW: I don't either. What car are you in? Do you see us?? What are you passing? So are WE! This is so unbelievable!
John: That's weird.
LYW: John just said "That's weird." I KNOW! I can't believe you're on the same train we are!!
MyHubby: Oh, for godssake!
Me (in a loud voice): Can you believe we're on the same train?!!
Hubby, laughing, joined in for a change: I can't believe it! Oh my god!

Happily, the metro came to a stop and LYW, cell phone still clutched to her ear, and John went off to find her parents.