RACHEL'S COLUMNS

These articles appeared in Rachel's column every Friday in the A3 section of The Age

Put down that phone and hear the call of the riled
3rd September 2004

God I hate people who use their mobile phones oblivious and insensitive to the other people around them.  No I don't just hate them, I despise them; I wish there was a specially trained breed of dog that would run out and pee all over their legs every time they received or made a call at an inappropriate time.  Yes, I know there's been heaps written about this already, but just like Capital Gains Tax, nothing seems to be shifting.

Despite all our moaning and hissing and beady-eyed sideways glances, idiots are born every day.  And, it's part of their contract with the devil that they have temporary leave from the abode of the dammed, if they make the rest of us suffer by hearing their brain-deadening conversations.  Last Friday I was in an almost empty cinema when the familiar boopeedoo staccato of a mobile phone emanated from the person four seats away from me.  Not happy with the disruption itself, this dumb-ass continued speaking full voice, oblivious to the rest of us, in his own egomaniacal bubble of indifference.

It took roughly twenty seconds for the surge of cortisol to slosh past the boundaries of my cortex and into the primitive limbic part of my brain.  By the time another woman three rows behind me, asked him to go outside, I was up on my feet with clawed hand ready to snatch the thing from his face and shove it into any clammy crevice of his body.  I slid back down demurely into my seat and kept my mouth shut until he'd shuffled past me still absorbed in his conversation.

One of my New Year resolutions was to be more tolerant of my fellow humans.  With that in mind, I tried not to judge him as I got on my knees and stretched my arm fully out in the semi darkness to grab his leather jacket.  Still on all fours, I moved the jacket under another seat – just a few rows away – on the other side of the cinema near the exit door.  I can't remember exactly where, it was very dark in there.  I'm sure he found it-eventually.

There are those individuals who must have their mobile phones on all the time.  Usually they're professionals, like obstetricians or organ-transplant specialists on stand-by to receive body parts – or politicians waiting to hear about bodies overboard.  I don't mind being disturbed by doctors on call, not even in a movie or during a romantic dinner for two, not even if the doctor is my date for that romantic dinner.  In these cases we can all understand and indeed applaud technology for delivering such a potentially life-saving tool.

But it's those scary individuals who can't seem to take a step without having their mobile phones on and poised for a chat or text message at any time, that forewarn the end of our species, as we know it.  I know I know I'm supposed to understand their inner emptiness and desire for approval – I've heard gazillion snippets of their rubbish conversations.  I've tried to tell them that therapy would have better long-term effects and it's probably cheaper than their monthly phone plan.  But they just glare at me like I'm some monster who butchered Bambi – I’m the bad person apparently.

Why call someone minutes after you've just left them?  Perhaps if you've forgotten your wallet, keys or a prosthetic limb you can't live without – OK, I understand that – but not because you can't live with your own company for five minutes!  Trust me, I know I'm far from being a fully formed, emotionally perfect individual, I'm a comedian remember!  But I try not to irk anyone by keeping my nail-biting, bed-wetting and scalp-picking habits to myself when I'm alone – that's why we all need moments of solitude.

Finally, at the risk of a few red faces, it’s come to my attention that the mobile phone and especially text messaging is the tool-du-jour of adulterers.  These discreet individuals can receive messages without the risk of the wrong person intercepting the call.  I'm not advocating adultery but at least these extramarital types always mumble in hushed whispers.