A cell phone curse

By Marc Calhoun

I am on the 560 bus, on the way from the airport to West Seattle. A woman in front of me is talking loudly into her cell phone. After sitting through 10 minutes of non-stop chit-chat I move back a few seats to find a quiet spot. At the next stop someone boards, phone plastered against their ear, and takes a seat behind me. There's no place to escape. I'm trapped in chitter-chatter purgatory. My kingdom for a cell phone jammer.

I am in the men's room at work. A fellow employee standing next to me has a blue-tooth earpiece on, and is listening to a teleconference. I proceed to be as noisy as possible, flushing a few extra toilets and touching all the electric towel dispensers so that they start cranking out paper. But even all that racket doesn't drown out the chatter. My kingdom for a cell phone jammer.

I am on the 545 bus, riding to work on the eastside. Most of the riders are Microsofties. A man sitting behind me is particpating in a conference call, and I hear one side of a discussion regarding everything that's wrong with Vista. A woman across the aisle from me is also on the phone, telling someone everything that's wrong with her boyfriend. My only escape is to don headphones and crank up the music. My kingdom for a cell phone jammer.

It is 10 p.m., and I'm in the Admiral Safeway. A woman with a headset is wandering the store, talking loudly to some one far away, her voice echoing across the nearly deserted aisles. I am tempted to turn on my own phone, start a louder conversation with someone farther away, and then follow her through the store. But I don't. My kingdom for a cell phone jammer.

I'm on the Water Taxi, standing in my favorite spot, next to the wheelhouse on the starboard side of the upper deck. The wind's in my hair as the Sightseer zips towards West Seattle at a blistering five knots. All is well with the world, but not for long. I hear a ring tone that sounds like the Muzak version of Born to be Wild, and a man standing behind me proceeds to talk, and talk, and talk. After a few minutes of listening to his mindless chatter I move to another spot. My kingdom for a cell phone jammer.

I am on the 545 bus again on my way home from work. A phone is ringing somewhere, its volume set obnoxiously loud. 'My kingdom for a cell phone jammer' I think to myself. Then I realize it's my own phone.

Marc Calhoun may be reached via wseditor@robinsonnews.com