Kirk to Enterprise... beam down some Charmin

I have to wonder if this is what Gene Roddenberry had in mind when he envisioned the communicator.

So what kind of an age are we living in?  Why, it's the age of the cell phone!  Nevermind those geniuses you see on the road, gazing off into space as if to envision the face of the loved one miles away to whom they speak while using one hand in an attempt to keep the car moving more or less in a straight line, no...  No, we've moved into whole new territory.

I've just returned from a quick trip to relieve myself of a couple of cups of marginal coffee.  I walk in, sidle up, and notice that someone in one of the stalls is holding a rather lively, seemingly one-sided conversation in one Asian language or another.  Having been born well before the advent of cellular technology, my first instinct was that this fellow was indulging in some private time with his multiple personalities.  But then, no! I have to wonder if this is what Gene Roddenberry had in mind when he envisioned the communicator.

So what kind of an age are we living in? Why, it's the age of the cell phone! Nevermind those geniuses you see on the road, gazing off into space as if to envision the face of the loved one miles away to whom they speak while using one hand in an attempt to keep the car moving more or less in a straight line, no... No, we've moved into whole new territory.

I've just returned from a quick trip to relieve myself of a couple of cups of marginal coffee. I walk in, sidle up, and notice that someone in one of the stalls is holding a rather lively, seemingly one-sided conversation in one Asian language or another. Having been born well before the advent of cellular technology, my first instinct was that this fellow was indulging in some private time with his multiple personalities. But then, no! The answer came to me! He was on a cell phone. Yes, that's right. Apparently, something was too important to wait the three or four minutes it would take him to squeeze out last night's chow mein to discuss. In essence, he took whomever it was on the other end in there with him, making him or her the beneficiary of whatever gruntings, strainings, explosive outventings, and splashes might result. How very charming. As a person with only a solid command of English, and a very very basic acquaintance with French, I have no idea just what had this fellow so excited. But I can imagine it went something like this...

"I'm telling you, Wei, these mmnnnnnFOURTH QUARter earnings are jjjjuuuSSST uhhhhphenomenal.You should nnnnnffffRRREALLY FREE UP... a few... DOLLARS... erf... ...leverage an asset or two, and take advantage of errrrrfff! this golden opportunity... Why don't we talk about it over lunch?"

...It plays something like that in my puerile imagination. Anyway, whatever. It's none of my business, not really. But then, the guy stands up, and exits the stall. Well... he's got a cell phone in his hand. This is an important call! What to do? Can't put the phone down, can't end the conversation... that'd be rude. Nope, nothing for it but to leave without washing his hands. Which he did. Ten seconds after wiping his ass, he's turning the knob. A few seconds later, there I am, washing my own hands. Looking at the doorknob. Wondering what's the fucking point.

There's a line in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, written way before the rise of the cell phone, about an entire world being wiped out by a virus contracted from a dirty telephone. I can't help thinking that Douglas Adams must be getting a big laugh out of this if he happened to be looking down on me taking a leak this morning. Ha! Don't put it past him.