Cell Phone
But first, a quick note about how I feel about cell phones.
Cell phones and their use are a constant source of behavior that could be considered beyond the pale of rude. I don’t know how many times I have heard people complaining about drivers, workers and customers using cell phones. Chances are though they do the same thing themselves. The fact is, just about everybody is a culprit when it comes to pissing somebody off with a cell phone. We are, by nature, uncaring bastards who have more important things to do in this speedy and hectic world than to interrupt an ever so important phone call from hubby who wants to know what’s for dinner…at 8:00 in the morning.
Before I even begin my next story, I want to state for the record that cell phones themselves, not just the use of them, are by far the rudest invention ever created. They are little rude extensions of ourselves (the rudest species ever created) from their annoying rings and beeps to their pale and sickly glow to the constant brainless texting that has become vogue recently, they literally drip with uncouth smugness and they allow us to seal ourselves off further from our fellow man. Yeah, I come off as a crotchety old man, irritated by those damned kids and their newfangled stuff, but I really do have an honest point here. Talking face to face to people is a big source of being rude and being a bastard to other people, but at the same time there is a flip side to that rude coin…we can also talk out our differences and avoid or apologize for nasty behavior because we actually see what is going on on the other end of the conversation. Also, you are much less likely to tell somebody “STFU” when they are standing right in front of you. If you did that, more often than not, you’re gonna get a punch in the nose.
Cell phones make an envelope around people. If I am talking on my cell phone, you are probably not going to interrupt me to tell me the total for my purchases or expect me to help you with my end of the couch if we are hauling furniture. Interrupting people is rude! Since when did overt rude actions suddenly countermand normal policies of kindness and helpfulness?
Now, on with the story…
It was probably late August or early September when this happened. I know this because it was insanely hot and humid out and I was driving a truck that did not have a working air conditioner. My hands were wet on the steering wheel as I cruised down the street just above the speed limit, and I am pretty sure I was in a bad mood for some reason. I was on the way to the local pool to pick up my kids. I had gotten a call earlier that I was to go and pick them up because their friends had not shown up for a scheduled session of pool time frolicking. So I hopped in the Bronco and headed over to the municipal pool to pick them up.
I said that I was in a bad mood and I know the reason why I was. I had been sequestered in my apartment under the power of the air conditioner barely begun to cool off from my earlier foray to the pool to drop the kids off in the first place. Things like taking me out of a comfort zone tend to rile me up. It’s true. Ask anybody who has dealt with me on a personal level for any sort of time.
So there I was, driving down the street, probably cursing under my breath, with sweat dripping down in my eyes from my badly cut hair. I had pulled out of my apartment complex and onto a pretty busy road that led about five miles to my destination. Nobody was around. No cars, no joggers, no young couples out with the stroller. It was THAT hot out.
Little side streets dotted both sides of the main strip I was on. They either led back into the community or they were service roads for the businesses that were interspersed between the laid back family homes. Lots of these service roads led to parking lots in front of their respective businesses, but some of these roads snuck back behind the businesses like little alleys.
I am always looking at these alleys because you cannot see what is going to come out of them. The buildings are right up next to the road, so you are never quite sure if somebody is hidden back in there, waiting to turn out on to the main road.
I must have glanced at the radio or was busy lighting a cigarette. Whatever happened, I didn’t notice the guy in the black luxury, freshly washed and wax, car pull right out in front of me until it was much too late. I slammed on the breaks and yanked the wheel sideways to avoid hitting him, but there was just not enough space or time to fully miss the gleaming black car. I tapped his driver’s side front corner and only left minimal paint damage to the vehicle. It was at this point that I glanced over at the other driver to see if he was all right and I noticed that he was, despite being hit by a truck, still talking on his cell phone.
I was incensed. Not only had this guy pulled right out in front of me without looking to see if the coast was clear, he had done it while he was talking on a cell phone. Obviously this call was important, how could it not be? He was so tuned into his call; he hadn’t even bothered to hang up after the collision. What if he had hit a kid on a bike? What if he had run into a school bus full of cheerleaders? Nope, that call was business.
I get out of the vehicle to see what kind of damage had been done. The big bumper on the truck had only a few minor scratches, probably minor enough to avoid the insurance call I had previously thought I was going to have to make. His car was torn up pretty badly; it was one of those newer models of car that the front end is entirely made out of plastic and composite materials. Crumple zones crumple for a reason… He climbed out of his mashed vehicle, cell phone still in hand, and gave a cursory glance at his front right side.
“Yes, that’s right, I would like a two liter bottle of Sprite…what’s the total on that gonna be?”
He was ordering pizza! It took every bit of my being to keep from reaching into the cargo area of the Bronco, pulling out the softball bat located there, and bashing his skull repeatedly until either I felt better about the situation, or he had some sense…whichever came first.
“You okay?” I asked, biting back my anger.
I figured I would hear something like “yeah, gee man, I’m sorry about doing that… I looked down for a minute and I thought there were no cars coming.” But I didn’t hear that. I heard him on his phone again. This guy was dialing up his wife now, assured that she needed to know exactly how much his pizza and two liter bottle of Sprite was going to cost her when the delivery boy showed up on her doorstep.
He finally maneuvered around his open car door and glanced bleakly at the dents and torn plastic on the front of his car. “Oh yeah, I just hit a guy too” he stated dully to the little devil attached to his face. He snapped the phone closed again, but only for a second.
Now he was using the little beast to snap pictures of the damage. At the same time, he was digging in his back pocket for what turned out to be his wallet and his insurance card. Yes, that is probably the best thing to do in that situation. But you only do that once you see if the other guy is all right and that there is no more further danger to yourself or the other driver. He hadn’t even answered my question yet.
“You got insurance?” he asked and my blood pressure skyrocketed.
“Yeah, um are you all right?” I asked again. He gave me a cursory wave as if to say everything was okay, meanwhile the little annoying noise of the phone’s camera never stopped.
“You think we need the cops or insurance involved?” he said around the phone.
I thought about answering him with a “yes” because if he didn’t put that goddamned phone down, the cops were going to be needed to keep me from tearing his intestines out with my teeth and his health insurance company was surely going to be interested in that. But no, I told him that everything was fine on my side of the situation, I just wanted to get my kids. We handed each other our insurance information and got back into our vehicles and went about our merry way.
Thing is, he never looked me square in the eye. I am sure that later on if I decided to sue him over whiplash, he wouldn’t know who I was, couldn’t point me out in the courtroom except for the neck collar I would be wearing. He had never taken a picture of me, just the damage to his car. He had more important things to do.
