Posted tagged ‘Mobile Phones’

Phoney War

December 11, 2010

It was a pleasant journey as the bus trudged through the remains of the snow in a leisurely fashion. There were only three of us on the coach and although closely bunched we weren’t invading anyone’s space. Then the girls mobile rang.

She proceeded to have a losing conversation with a friend. The friend was the alpha-female and in total control of the chat. Sitting across from me the passenger on the bus could only remark in fragmentary sentences into her cell.

On the bus, post office, shelves for idiots, on the bus, 4X4 times two, clocked him.

Struggling to get a foothold against the formidable orator at the end of the line, the commuter -who I was now rooting for as the underdog is always popular and in solidarity I felt as if she was my comrade- was having her attempts at a fight back cut short.

Well she sa- life can be- wait a secon- on the bus- there’s no wa- listen up a-

If this were a heavyweight boxing bout the ref would have stopped the fight. I was tempted to grab the phone from her and outtalk the chatterbox. Then the tone of my fellow traveller changed and she started speaking in exclamation marks.

She did what! Robbie Winters! On the bus! Five Times! No protection!

Her high-pitched voice was whining in my ears and was only drowned out by the sound of a blaring version of the Tom Jones classic: It’s not unusual. This was the ring tone of the old bald guy in front of me. Having a guess I’d say he was about ninety-three. He answered his Samsung.

EHHH? HUHHH? CANNAE HEAR YE. SPEAK UP. EHHHH?

Call me old-fashioned but I thought of Logan’s Run. If this book were written today it would state that no one over the age of forty-five should possess a mobile phone. Don’t call me ageist I also think it silly all the young men that sport a d’Artagnan goatee beard but that’s for another tale.

The tranquil journey had now turned into a discordant symphony of banshees and croaking frogs. The girl had found a second wind and was tearing lumps out of her opponent as she began to dominate the telecommunication tête-à-tête with left/right hand switching combinations and rapid fire vocal deliveries. Great, great granddad had changed the phone to his good ear and he continued to shout while his hearing aid beeped like R2D2.

Call me gullible if you will. I’ve always believed the scare-mongering about mobile phones harming your brain. Only in emergencies will I step into the super highway telephony network. With little chance of respite I had no option other than to join the fray; if you can’t beat ‘em and all that. I pulled out my mobile phone and had a game of Pac-Man.

Not that I need any encouragement, this little adventure gives me the excuse to play some Blondie. I wish Debbie would call me. The risk would be worth it.

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