Of loudmouthed mobile phone prattlers.

When someone says the phrase “your worst nightmare”, I automatically conjure an image of my phone falling into the toilet. Yet that really isn’t the worst. You’re busy blowing your rusty trumpet to a chiq in that high-end hole where you normally ditch ‘the brothers’ and hibernate to when something oils your wallet or salary comes in at end month, then this good-for-nothing starts loudly as if addressing everyone, laughing to the last molar. I don’t know about where you live, but #SomeoneTellCNN that Kenya is really a hotbed of loud public cell blathers.

The other lot that refused to join the dinosaurs in extinction and have adamantly done so are these loudmouth mobile phone yappers. Why can’t peeps just shut the cell up in public places? I wish I could zip up the inconsiderate lips of idiots who discuss what they want from the restaurant so that everyone can hear them. The disease is multiplying exponentially.I, in fact, came to this bathroom stall in the restaurant to type this away. The mean guy in the next stall is probably trying to silently open a bag of fries but when he reads this post he’ll discover how sold out he is. Yet, what he’s doing is probably how I wish people dealt with their phone conversations.

These people are the cause of the increasingly mad society around us. A growing body of research suggests that a conversation that bystanders hear only one side of, such as a cellphone call, is disturbing to the brain in a way a two-sided conversation is not. Do you have a brain? Apparently, your brain tries to figure out the side of the conversation that you are not able to hear. (Your brain, mine too, does this automatically; it isn’t something you can just decide not to do.) See? This way, you cause a neural itch. And the maddening continues. Have such people considered making it less brain-bothering by using speakerphone so we all can enjoy both sides of the conversation?

It doesn’t help that decades after cellphones showed up on everybody from the CEO to the homeless guy on your business premises’ verandah, many people still speak into theirs in the voice white men in cowboy movies used to talk to the Indians. One time, i thought this was one of the symptoms of short person syndrome since most babblers who have taken over the privacy of public service vehicles and the commuter trains happened to be vertically challenged. Not being really very tall myself, i presumed this was a nature-given attention-seeking gimmick since short peeps get ignored, and very, especially short dudes, by ladies!! But hey, I’ve spotted many a tall, dark and handsome giraffe yapping way out of their pie-holes as if they’re bound to expire. Pie-hole is just the facial orifice where you insert pie when you wanna eat it.

Due to public demand, cell booths should be introduced in all public places. You know, those sound-proof privacy stalls where you just shut yourself in and blubber to the four walls till you’ve had enough dose of yourself; then at least you can come out with a smirk on your face. I’ll readily bow down to this. Why don’t people appreciate the much work I put into not becoming a serial killer? Though, there’re demerits. I know weed-smokers will pay to just get in there and romp with a blunt whilst crack heads and homeless jamaas will live in there at night but i think we can do with those ones than with these attention-seeking try-hards. Everyone will like this since nobody really enjoys talking on a phone, wireless device or tablet with someone listening in or looking over their shoulder, even if trying to be as silent as possible.

Otherwise, you guy there with a pot-belly who triggered this post; how about when you’re in a restaurant, you just enjoy a cup of shut-the-hell-up and give me peace? I’m not saying you are bad; just that you sound better when I can’t hear you. Did you know that while you were pursuing those mega-dollar business deals you’d have me hear about, an Alexander the Great was making conquests, pursuing your girlfriend because whiners like you can’t keep a doll? Now you know. Maybe I’m just some broke green-eyed monster who has actually lost his cell phone and isn’t happy for you but I’ll allow you some humble pie to go with the cup. Lemme get outta here, I think there’s a queue outside. Bye.

… or just a hotbed of loudmouthed cell phone prattlers?

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