Written by Andrew T.

Good Morning Angels,

So, cell phones. Let’s talk about them. I’m taking a break from talking about the Internet to talk about cell phones.
Now, I was a latecomer to the cell phone game. I got my first mobile phone in May of 2009. I haven’t even had one for a year. And I’m 21.

Now, that’s an unrelated but somewhat substantial sounding fact, but the point is that I’m already wistfully imagining the freedom I had when I didn’t have my phone. Those were good times. Why didn’t I stick with them? To be honest, I wanted to be in the club. I wanted in, even though I knew (and still know) that this club hosts the worst parties. But let’s get real for a second.

Who doesn’t have an open bar at a club party? The cell phone people.

And who sets a limit on the number of cocktail weenies I can eat? The cell phone people.

Well, whatever. I just wanted into the club. And there are some club benefits. I can remember this one time…and this other time…but specifically, this one time I was coming back from Montreal with these guys named Bled, Jay, Sam, and Jordan and they were all excusing themselves from our really important conversation about life and stuff in order to text people. On the one hand, I didn’t want to be that guy. But on the other hand, I did want to be that guy. I wanted to be all those guys. I wanted to have someone waiting to read my overly wordy and properly spelled texts! And now I am that guy! I spell all kinds of things! Did you know that T9 knows the words “Honka” and “Jackie Chan” but almost none of the curse words I use on a regular basis?

So like I said, I did become that guy. I was hanging with some other guys last night (and one of the same guys), just hanging out and talking. And yes, I did spend some time responding to a few texts. Then I noticed Sean giving me that look. You know, that look that says, “Hey buddy. We’re having a conversation here.” He does this even though he and I both know—like, we know—that I’m all about our conversations, and that I can do both at once. But still. Rude. I know. And I’d say “My Bad,” but such is the life and etiquette of being a cell phone user.

Oh! And can someone please explain to me why cell phone etiquette somehow involves having the right to contact me at all times? You know what I mean? Like, sometimes I think I’ll just leave my cell phone constantly plugged in. Forever charging. I’d treat it like a landline, and maybe leave it at home when I went out to Cirque du Soleil, or if I went to the slightly less popular and sexual Circus of the Sun, or if I went to the even less popular and less sexual location of your house…Why? Because I can. And I’m the boss of the phone. The phone is not the boss of me.
But think about how mad people would be if they found out I did that. I think that people have a crazy sense of entitlement over their ability to contact me whenever they want. Not just contacting me, but all people really. Like, what, I can’t wait to respond to a text? I can. And I do sometimes. My Grandma will wait whole weeks, apparently.
Was there a real point to this week’s column? Um…no…just, be yourself. But don’t let yourself be you! That’s weird. Or maybe try thinking about how being constantly connected to your friends and family is both a good thing and a bad thing, but it shouldn’t be the only thing. I think the most important thing about cell phone etiquette is knowing how the people you’re physically with will react to you being constantly pulled into another social sphere. If they’re not into you texting and being slightly distracted – and I’m into that, I’m totally into that – then maybe they’ll feel like you guys spent all this time planning a big get together, and then you go ahead and party at the neighbour’s house down the street. Who does that?

I’ll try to have more stories about girls next week. I feel unbalanced if I just talk about my guy friends. So I may not be able to mention Scott again for a while. Dang.

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