Living Out Lout
Yesterday, I had to be in the Valley for drinks at 6:30 with a friend of mine. She'd invited a whole bunch of people, and lives in the Valley, so there was no persuading her to change it to someplace that wouldn't require me to get a rage-ectomy after spending an hour in parking lot-style rush-hour traffic.
At 3 p.m., I decided to beat the rush (hour) by leaving Santa Monica, and the wonderful cafe I go to, complete a "No Cell Phones" sign (for people who don't display manners without signage), and go to a Starbucks in the Valley. Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks, to be exact.
I had no idea how horrible an idea this was. I got there, ordered from the very pleasant employees, and sat down to a most unpleasant cell phone conversation from this charmer, who only went outside for a smoke at the half-hour mark...while still on his phone.
He argued and argued, loudly, on his cell phone, for over a half an hour. I actually recorded 26 minutes of his loutery, but unfortunately, the acoustics and my wonderful little Olympus (here's a more recent model), which I use for phone interviews, and which downloads right to my computer, didn't work out too well.
Oh, and because I know somebody will ask, that's my Verizon mobile broadband modem. Gregg got it for me, same as with all my technology, which has to mean it, and the service, are the best out there, or were at the time he got it for me. It's great -- I can be on from just about anywhere, at any time, and packet sniffers can't burrow into my business like they can with a computer on a Wifi network.
I was going to put his conversation on my site, as you have no presumption of privacy if you are shouting in a public place. Sigh...next time. I was sitting near a musician and a sound engineer, who were not on their cell phones, and with whom I had a very pleasant conversation. The sound engineer later recommended mikes and places to go to get them.
Back to boor's conversation, he's outdoors in the photo, but all but about five minutes of his argument on his cell phone -- and at one point, he was on two cell phones at a time -- took place indoors. Loudly. He went on and on and on trying to badger somebody into canceling some membership. I was reading the paper, so I didn't want to listen to music, and put on my (usually terrific) earplugs, Hearos Ultimate Softness (fit small earholes!), but they only filtered out some of his argument because he was so loud.
This was actually kind of fascinating -- not the conversation itself, but the fact that the guy would have such a private and aggressive conversation so loudly for all around him to hear...to be forced to hear...and for such a long time.
At one point, I looked at him and he actually looked back and shrugged, as if to say "These people!" (on the phone). Arrrrgh. I was tired, and didn't feel like getting into it with him. Also, he didn't look like the type who'd be persuaded by a manners argument; i.e., that you have no right to anybody else's attention. But, I got so frustrated, and he kept talking about his "rights" and his "right" to cancel his membership on the phone that at one point, I sort of muttered, "Why do you think you have a right to our attention?" but he was too engaged in his shouting to listen, or just heard and ignored me.
The shocking thing was, in this Starbucks, most of the people indoors were shouting into phones. Some little business dude in an ill-fitting white shirt and a tie was actually using his phone in speaker mode! A girl stood up and did a monologue into hers.
A model (female, vacant eyes) behind me did the same, even after hearing me tell the recording engineer I was recording the lout's conversation to put it on the Internet. And some little blonde cur of a girl, in a blue wool double-breasted coat, and with sunken eyes, sat in a chair across from me and barked like a Yorkshire terrier into her phone.
There was one guy later, a handsome black guy in a cool hat -- believe his name was Derek Brown, because we chatted on my way out -- who only looked like he was talking on a phone. He actually was, but had manners, so you could only see him in action, not hear him.
What I want to know is, how anybody, but especially the guy having the long argument on his cell phone -- high stress, horrible to listen to -- thinks, under any circumstance, that this is okay to subject other people to? What was his momma doing, and with whom, when she was supposed to be teaching him that other people matter?
What was his momma doing, and with whom, when she was supposed to be teaching him that other people matter?
Apparently, she was teaching him that only he matters!
Flynne at February 29, 2008 7:55 AM
A job well done!
I especially loved when the guy shrugged at me for sympathy -- as if to say "These people...!" (on the other end)...showing that he knew completely well that I was forced to hear every word of his conversation...and that he found didn't find that the least bit awful, inappropriate, or impolite.
Amy Alkon at February 29, 2008 8:33 AM
I wish someone would bring back the phone booth. Not the open ones, the closed ones.
Here is Nick Rodrigues' idea of the portable cellphone booth The video on the page is worth watching, though it takes a while to get to the point.
I don't want the coffeehouse to be quiet, but I don't want to hear the shouting into cellphones.
I do think some of the issue could be fixed if more people had stereo headsets for their cells. I got one to listen to music on my phone and found it made it much easier to hear and I think my own shouting was reduced.
Of course, sometimes at a coffeehouse I get really annoyed with the decibels of the coffee machine thingy itself. Jebus, a drip coffee maker ain't nearly that noisy!
jerry at February 29, 2008 9:01 AM
I don't want the coffeehouse to be quiet, either. I like to be around people -- talking to each other, face to face, which they tend to do at a civilized decibel level.
When somebody is having a one-sided conversation on a cell phone, your brain compels you to listen in a way you aren't compelled to pay attention to coffeemakers or two-sided conversations, to fill in the missing part.
Amy Alkon at February 29, 2008 9:05 AM
That's so obnoxious. I don't even like talking on my cell phone when other people are around because I don't want strangers knowing my business. Even my dull, mundane business.
But then, my conversations often end up being about eating babies, because my friends are strange.
Monica at February 29, 2008 9:12 AM
That's the problem with so many of these conversations. They aren't about eating babies.
Amy Alkon at February 29, 2008 9:28 AM
I don't want the coffeehouse to be quiet, either. I like to be around people -- talking to each other, face to face, which they tend to do at a civilized decibel level.
Absolutely. In that environment, working on a computer is much more fun.
jerry at February 29, 2008 9:43 AM
After carefully examining the photo it's quite evident that "the lout" was arguing with his answering machine. Some people have accomplishments, others publicly pretend to conduct business to impress the masses.
A quick hint to those wanting to "look important" - button and tuck your shirt in. You should also take the "stupid stick" out of your mouth.
Curly Smith at February 29, 2008 10:04 AM
As I've said before, important people are unreachable.
I haven't listened to the messages on my cell phone since around February 10. The outgoing message says, "This phone is rarely answered, and messages are sometimes returned three weeks later." Don't say I didn't warn ya.
If I like you, and you don't live hundreds or thousands of miles away, we'll have a coffee or a drink, face to face, actually pay full attention to each other -- quality time, imagine that.
Amy Alkon at February 29, 2008 10:18 AM
Very few people give a shit about anybody but themselves anymore. Amy, if you had pushed that butthead further on the issue, you might have ended up on an episode of Cops with an officer hauling him off, after he went upside your head because the thought you were being rude, or a racist, or some other popular card played by one of today's habitual victims.
Brian at February 29, 2008 12:11 PM
Something told me not to go there. Perhaps I was just tired, or recognized the futility of it. Or maybe I instinctually thought it was a bad idea.
Amy Alkon at February 29, 2008 12:33 PM
I'll venture that few people have EVER given a shit about anyone but themselves (and their inner circle). But in the past, there were social incentives to at least pretend you cared. Like, if you were a boor, you didn't get invited to all the cool parties. But now we're encouraging exhibitionism, and people with any kind of restraint are considered repressed.
Monica at February 29, 2008 12:39 PM
I couldn't disagree with you more on that Monica. I grew up in the south where you went out of your way to help someone, even a total stranger, that was in need. I still go out of my way and I teach my kids that lesson every chance I get. Make all the jokes about "marrying your cousin, being a toothless redneck," etc., but I could give a shit if I don't get invited to the cool parties or not. The way I see it, if I'm there the party MUST be cool. LOL.
brian at February 29, 2008 1:18 PM
Ha! I live in the North, and my brother really is toothless and shacked up with our cousin, so I won't judge. :)
Maybe I'm just too cynical. I could argue that there's a social advantage, especially in small areas, to helping out strangers and neighbors. Eventually, someone will be in a position to help you. It's great that you're teaching your kids to help strangers, though. I was taught to fear strangers, not help them, but fortunately I've managed to overcome that programming.
Monica at February 29, 2008 1:36 PM
I know what you mean Monica. I don't remember ever kissing any of my cousins though! LOL. I grew up there but I've lived the past 31 years in Colorado and I've spent a lot of time all over the country, including L.A. My sister is an atty living in Orange County. She and I agree that if I lived there I would get in a lot of trouble because I think so many people there are so self-absorbed and that's a major pet peeve of mine. I still help people that need help. And I open doors for people, and I carry groceries for ladies that look overwhelmed, etc. I'm sure that's not politically correct in some areas, but I'm still going to do it.
brian at February 29, 2008 2:09 PM
heh, you should'a slipped him a note that said:
"for quality control purposes, everybody in this shop is recording your conversation..."
or you could listen long enough to find out his first name, and then do a running commentary about his problem into his other ear...
or tell him that holding his manhood up to his ear like that will cause him to go blind...
what you really need is to hire a strolling band of Mariachi, to sarenade him while on hold.
hmmm, I'm sensing pent up angst about cell screamers in myself, hopefully I won't do something ClintEastwood, and pull the hammer back on a .44 mag and say "turn off the phone, punk." But I laugh maniacly thinking about it...
SwissArmyD at February 29, 2008 10:47 PM
Okay, my cell phone story --- I'm standing in line for a movie when Cell Phone Antagonist Man fires up his cell phone to discuss, loudly, just how much money he's in charge of at work (although I don't think the girls he was trying to impress were actually impressed). Not a problem, until this goes on and on and on.
So I pull out my phone, pretend to dial, and at the top of my lungs have a conversation with a proctologist over the size and shape of a mysterious annoying pain in my ass. I repeat every bit of the doc's disgusting description of the 'roid because it's behind me and I can't see it.
Line laughter ensues.
Vengeance. Serve it hot and on the spot.
Gog_Magog_Carpet_Reclaimers at March 1, 2008 9:41 AM
Brilliant.
Amy Alkon at March 1, 2008 9:55 AM
I'm betting that these are the same people that cannot use a turn signal to save their lives. They basically just don't care, it's all about them period, I'm not sure there is any hope for rehabilitation into polite society for their ilk.
mbruce at March 1, 2008 4:33 PM
You really should think about getting a cell phone jammer. One quick hit, and his call would terminate.
roo at March 3, 2008 9:32 AM
I don't think I have any right to jam people's calls. Also, if you jam one person's call, you may block calls to others -- like somebody whose babysitter is calling about an emergency...a person who may be polite enough to leave their phone on vibrate and take their call outside.
Amy Alkon at March 3, 2008 10:03 AM
Leave a comment