In honor of July 4th, I’d like to point out that there should be some limits on free speech. Rather, there should be be limits on where speech takes place. For example. Yesterday, I went to see Superman. It was a pretty good movie, an opinion shared by another man who was in the theatre at the same time I was. I know this because after the show and a large Diet Coke, I made a pit stop on my way of the theatre. That’s when I heard the guy in the next stall over telling a friend about the movie, talking in a fairly loud voice. When I visited the sink, I saw in the mirror why:
The guy was standing at the urinal. Doing his business. While holding a cell phone.
Oh.
Please.
Could you not, I wanted to say, have enough respect for yourself, your friend, and the people flushing urinals a foot away, to wait another 30 seconds to make that call? Was it so important to chat about the man of steel that you risked peeing on your shoes? Or the shoes of the guy next to you?
Come on, be a man. Stay off the phone in the potty.
And next time?
Wash your hands when you leave.














July 5th, 2006 at 9:09 am
Lucky you got to see a doofus using a cell phone in the restroom. I got to spend yesterday in an ER waiting room (long story) and saw cell phones being used in new and creative ways. I actually snapped a photo of the guy sitting across from me with an ankle bracelet courtesy of the state (Florida right now) and acrylic nails fit to rip out eyeballs and his mother or girlfriend (could not tell which) preggers and smoking and a little sister working in a workbook and talking to herself. These were the sane ones. The ones with cell phones were calling family and judges and police and………..you get the picture.
July 5th, 2006 at 9:36 am
Eewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
July 5th, 2006 at 9:47 am
You always have better stories than I do. My guy had tattoos, though. Does that up the stakes? No? Darn.
July 5th, 2006 at 9:47 am
Yup.
July 5th, 2006 at 9:53 am
Oh sweetie, the tats were freakin amazing. I think I was there with Crips and Bloods, the Russian mafia (see, there is more to the story) and the various members of Hispanic gangs (whose names I do not know yet). I think I was the only woman not smoking and not preggers and not tattooed or pierced in usual places except for Martha who was the reason for the trip there in the first place. Oh, and did I mention that the car rental place gave me a lemon yellow Hummer instead of the minivan I requested. I thought I would be carjacked in the parking lot where kids were setting off fireworks at 10 in the morning.
Too bad I do not write this kind of fiction. I know I saw enough yesterday for a short story at least.
Kisses,
t
July 5th, 2006 at 10:03 am
Blergh. Great writing, but ugh.
July 5th, 2006 at 10:49 am
That does it. We need rules, people. Our technology has zipped right past our brains and common sense. I have been frustrated a lot lately with cellmaniacs and have been meaning to post about it. Do we need cell police? Or an Aunt Bee at least to go around slapping a few hands? Well, except for your cellmaniac. Even Aunt Bee shouldn’t have to touch him.
July 5th, 2006 at 10:55 am
Ick. Have you ever read David Sedaris’s book, DRESS YOUR FAMILY IN CORDUROY AND DENIM? He has a funny chapter about this subject.
July 5th, 2006 at 10:56 am
Wow, where in Florida are you, Teri? Hope everything’s okay w/ you.
July 5th, 2006 at 10:59 am
we are able to laugh at all this as the emergency was not huge–involved a few stitches and a lot of stories later. saw the liftoff from the beach here in south FLA
July 5th, 2006 at 12:40 pm
I obviously live in a very boring suburb . . . although I do see occasional shoulder tattoos even on stay-at-home moms with family incomes well about $100K. Is that a Florida thing? I thought I was just a nerd.
July 5th, 2006 at 12:48 pm
I haven’t it yet, but now, I’m definitely going to.
July 5th, 2006 at 1:23 pm
No butterflies on the small of the back? Must be a NC thing.
July 5th, 2006 at 9:07 pm
I don’t think it is endemic to Florida as I see it in Texas all the time. I am not a nerd but the idea of needles ripping something into my skin does not appeal at all. I like the ones I had as a kid that you put on by licking your skin and slapping it on top of the spit.