Love-Hate Cell

I have a love-hate relationship with cell phones. I love the fact that I no longer have to use germ-infested public phones. I hate the fact that my kids can reach me anywhere with annoying questions like: “Mom, did you wash that special sweater that I told you I needed to wear to the Pulitzer Prize ceremony tonight?”

I love texting, but I hate getting texted when I’m driving because then I’m tempted to text and drive which is about the same as downing a bottle of Scotch before driving. I have, very responsibly, pulled to the side of the road and texted. But I admit that I have texted while driving, but only while personally vowing never to do it again.

Anyway, what I hate about cell phones is people that talk on them…A LOT. I would almost guarantee that I have never had more than a 20 minute cell phone conversation. Part of this is because I hate talking on the phone and part of it is because I hate talking on the phone in public places. Apparently, most people don’t feel the same way that I do. Apparently, most people suck.

Today, I’m sitting in the waiting room of my friendly car dealer. I have about 90 minutes to kill. I managed to tune out the annoying morning show blasting on the television. (Am I the only person that has no interest in dressing my children like Madonna’s daughter Lourdes?) What I cannot tune out, however, is annoying cell phone bitch. We’ll call her ACPB.

So, ACPB dials up her friend and says she’s so excited to get the party invitation and she’s been such a bad friend not staying in touch and she will be able to attend the party. I’m thinking: “Good, RSVP done. Hang up now.” No, then we all have to hear about her friend’s dire kidney issues. “That kidney fought the good fight!” And, “So are you eligible for a transplant?” And, my favorite: “You should celebrate! You’re 40 and you’re still here!” Un-freaking-believable.

Then, we hear about ACPB’s daughter who is in and out of rehab. Honestly, is this information you want an entire waiting room to hear?! She wonders to her friend why the daughter has a crappy boyfriend and a crappy life. Could it be because the mother is a crappy example of having no boundaries or social etiquette?

This went on and on and on and on for at least 30 minutes. I finally turned on my iPod to try and drown her out. (I really wanted to just drown her.)

Seriously, WTF?! There was a giant showroom into which ACPB could have wandered to chat about kidneys and rehab. No, that would have been far too considerate. And here’s a nice wrinkle: She’s a nurse…apparently a neonatal nurse. Yes, this dope works with tiny, frail babies who need intensive care. That’s scary. She can barely raise her own daughter.

Anyway, here’s my word to the wise…and the unwise: DO NOT TALK LOUDLY ON YOUR CELL PHONE. I really shouldn’t have to tell anyone that, but I will. There…I feel better.