Thursday, 8 September 2016

Mobile phone etiquette.



It's a source of wonder and irritation and amusement. If you just sit around and watch people on their phones you realise quickly that just about anything goes today.

I have watched people who I figure might well be on their first or second date, both intently swiping their phone screens, presumably looking for someone who is hotter than the person in front of them. But it must be an interesting conversation prior to drawing their phone weapons.

One: Well you aren't like your photo
Two: All that acne ..... what makeup did you use for your photo shoot?
One: You remind me of someone, hang on (grabs phone and starts swiping) is this your brother? ( swipes madly)
Two: (swipes phone)

There is no further conversation. They swipe away, they don't order, not even a cuppa, and then one of 'em leaves, and the other doesn't notice.

I silently wish 'em both better luck next time. Fuck I am glad I am not out there.

The selfie stick shuffle gives me the shits, and I just fancy suggesting to people to actually have a look at stuff, and remember it, instead of filing millions of poor shots in some cloud file never to be seen again. How they don't do themselves a mischief I don't know, and I have some sympathy for the yanky fella who posted footage this week of him chopping selfie sticks in half. I laughed up a lung when I saw it, but the stick wavers were not amused. If you have a few minutes I am sure you can find it on you tube. Yeh I am too useless to include the link.

Today I spent time in a waiting room, and we all know how much I might have been enjoying that! It was heaving with people and even though I had wandered out for an hour, Stevie was not done so I scouted the seating area and took up a corner position on a bench seat, popped my handie on the other side of me and hoped not to be touched or irritated by anyone. Kindle in hand I sunk back into my book.

Pop Pop, PLOP Bing Bop Plop. I looked up. So did another lady.

There was a massive tellie hanging on the wall and last night's 'The Block' was playing and I guess it was pretty loud.

I went back to my book.

Plippity Plop Bing Bop. What the fuck was that noise?

Then I spied her. She was wearing an ID necklace and was sitting by a lady in a wheelchair. The ID said she was some sort of care provider. I guess she was with the wheelie lady. But she clearly didn't have any interest in keeping her company, cos her head was nose deep into one of those shitful phone games. Blippity blop.

The lady behind her said loudly, 'What is that bloody noise? Is it on the TV?' I laughed cos that's the sort of gaff I usually make. I said, 'No' and pointed across to the games player. 'What?' She laughed out loud and so did I.

The lady in the wheelchair clocked it all and smiled at me and then raised her eyebrows as if to say, 'Don't you whinge too loudly,  I am paying for this shit.'

The games player ignored all this even though it was unfolding in a room smaller than most laundries. When her charge was called she fumbled about with her phone and hand bag and then finally turned her attention to her lady, whose feet had slid off the foot pedals of her chariot and so needed to be tucked back into place before wheeling her off.

The rest of us breathed a sigh of relief when the technician said she should come with the lady, cos otherwise I suppose she would have just planted her arse again and played more of the bloody game.

Any one of us could have asked her to mute the phone, but I suppose we were all of an age where we didn't think that asking that should have been necessary.

I like it when I see signs asking customers to hang up before coming to the counter to order. It's about time a stand was made. I reckon if I was a barista I'd be like the soup Nazi on Seinfeld, 'If you're on your phone, fuck off!'