Mood:
caffeinatedWhat has happened to make cell phones a good thing? Clearly, they've got portability working for them but phones the size of a box of matches are no less irritating to be around than an army communications phone. It seems like every 2nd person one sees in the world has some kind of phone stuck to their head, oblivious to the serious breaches in their concentration for other activities, like driving. As long as they arrive at their destination, these folks have no qualms about the journey.
I saw one of those idiots last Thursday when I followed behind them on E. 1st Avenue. Guy was driving a pick-up the size of a small pachyderm and I had to honk at him at the 3 way stop at Ontario. It was then that I saw his left elbow smooshed up against the window while he talked and swivelled his head something fierce. Alas, his right leg had evidentally fallen asleep because he couldn't seem to accelerate across the intersection. Traffic was wild; we were the only ones there.
He made another left by Maynard's, negotiating the turn virutally unaided by his right hand, which was waving in the air at one point, so lord knows what other activities he was engaged in. I do thank the cosmos that his next turn was a right onto 4th Avenue because waiting for another lefthand turn wasn't going to be possible. I'd have killed the man first. When I looked in the rearview mirror a few minutes later, he was still on the phone but had now lit a cigarette and was waving that around. It was good for me, too, because I laughed the rest of the way to the Cancer Agency.
This story has nothing to do with phones just driving. I came up the ramp to the parkade's 1st floor and Lexus is backing out of a spot. This floor is reserved for professionals, i.e. oncologists, etc, but not social workers, by the way. Probably not nurses or porters, either, but clearly people to whom I likely owe my life. Lexus is very cautious when they see me despite my obvious use of brakes. It must be terrifying driving something so expensive. The driver gingerly, reluctantly, taps on the gas and crawls toward the downramp at a speed a three-legged dog could outrun, puts on the indicator light because although there's no other way to turn you just can't take chances, can you, especially at the Cancer Agency where it isn't clear who's still got a will to live and you have to share the road with them. When you're driving a vehicle that's so painfully luxurious you think the rest of the world should wait for you. This is akin to the Baby on Board signs that people put in their cars as a safeguard against vehicular catastrophe except that the minivan crowd accomplished more everyday acts of selfishness on the roads. The sign was only out of consideration to others, a way of marking themselves as with containers of hazardous material. "Caution: the person driving this car has had no sleep for months and has a screaming baby with them right now" might have been better. They should let their dog drive.
I kept a suitable distance, waiting until Lexus was comfortably setup in the downramp and then I gave 'er. Jetta produced a satisfying vaROOM and her tires did a little happy dance on the cement sending a few car alarms into cardiac arrest.
A BBC article describes the woes of some cell phone users who can't get their shit together, and it's heartbreaking.
Of course, the day I stand shivering by the side of the road while my beloved Jetta sits fubar, I'll probably wish I had one.
