Keep Talking.
There’s a woman
who lives near me who I can honestly say I’ve never once seen
not on the phone.
(Brief hiatus for you to work past the ‘never’ and ‘not’ to understand the gist of this sentence.)
This isn’t an exaggeration. She’s on it every time she walks past (and I’m going to apply the oft-misused word ‘literally’). I see her every day, usually more than once. I don’t want you to think I’m spying on her - I am, I just don’t want you to think it – but it’s very hard not to notice her telephonic proclivities, particularly as most of her conversations take place right outside my window, any time of the day or night. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was addicted to speaking to people she can’t see; if there’s such a fetish, it’s sick.
I’m not the only person to notice it. My wife has spotted it too. It happens so often, it’s comedic. She may as well have a handset skin-grafted to her palm. She usually adopts that annoying hands-free technique favoured by teenagers and show-offs, who wish to create the impression they’re too busy to lift their phone to their ear whilst walking down the street. She’s not averse to having it on speakerphone by my bedroom window in the middle of the night. If she’s having a conversation, we're all party to it.
She’s the same when she has guests. I once saw her walk out of her flat on her phone, to meet a car that pulled up. She reached onto the back seat and pulled out a toddler, who she carried indoors, on her phone throughout. She emerged an hour or so later - child under one arm and her mobile at her ear – to give the kid back to the driver. I bet she didn’t speak to the boy for the duration of his visit (unless he phoned her up).
I hope she’s on a good price plan. I dread to think of the size of her bills if she isn’t. I wonder if she's the speaking clock?
(Brief hiatus for you to work past the ‘never’ and ‘not’ to understand the gist of this sentence.)
This isn’t an exaggeration. She’s on it every time she walks past (and I’m going to apply the oft-misused word ‘literally’). I see her every day, usually more than once. I don’t want you to think I’m spying on her - I am, I just don’t want you to think it – but it’s very hard not to notice her telephonic proclivities, particularly as most of her conversations take place right outside my window, any time of the day or night. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was addicted to speaking to people she can’t see; if there’s such a fetish, it’s sick.
I’m not the only person to notice it. My wife has spotted it too. It happens so often, it’s comedic. She may as well have a handset skin-grafted to her palm. She usually adopts that annoying hands-free technique favoured by teenagers and show-offs, who wish to create the impression they’re too busy to lift their phone to their ear whilst walking down the street. She’s not averse to having it on speakerphone by my bedroom window in the middle of the night. If she’s having a conversation, we're all party to it.
She’s the same when she has guests. I once saw her walk out of her flat on her phone, to meet a car that pulled up. She reached onto the back seat and pulled out a toddler, who she carried indoors, on her phone throughout. She emerged an hour or so later - child under one arm and her mobile at her ear – to give the kid back to the driver. I bet she didn’t speak to the boy for the duration of his visit (unless he phoned her up).
I hope she’s on a good price plan. I dread to think of the size of her bills if she isn’t. I wonder if she's the speaking clock?
