Cellphones (or why I sometimes hate technology)

My first cellphone was a hand-me-down Sprint phone. My parents had just started their own business and switched to a new carrier, which meant new phones and new numbers. They still had the old phone and the old contract, so they passed it along to me. I had never had a cellphone before, and had never really seen the need (at this point, I barely had a license and had never really driven outside of the county, so things like car trouble didn't really register on my mind). So, the phone went in the glove box as more of an in-case-of-emergency type thing. My first real attempt at using it did not wow me with its convenience and technical capabilities.

I had driven to my friend Christin's house to visit, and as I pulled up in her yard, the heavens parted and approximately three oceans' worth of water fell from the sky. My friend, being security conscious, kept her door locked. So, I figured I would use my new phone to call her and let her know I was there so she could let me in, which would cut my time standing in the rain down to a minimum. Sadly, I could not get a signal on the phone. At this point, it is worth noting that my friend lived next to a cellphone tower. I can admit now that I have no idea which carrier owned that particular tower, but at the time, it provided fuel for quite a bit of anger.

So, after that, the phone pretty much sat in the glove box until the contract expired, and I vowed never to use Sprint again.

Time passes, and I'm now in college. My mom and sister decided to get their own cellphone plan, and offer to let me join in. I get the basic free flip phone from AT&T, which serves my needs. Barely. The signal isn't great (far better than Sprint, though). I can recall that there were only certain points in my apartment where I could get a signal, which could make for some interesting moments.

Eventually, I end up on my own plan with US Cellular. Again, a basic flip phone, set number of minutes, no text and data because I didn't see the need. At this point, I end up with a circle of friends who are big on texting and Facebook chatting. So, I add texting to my plan. I quickly blow past the limit. I upgrade the limit and start to blow past that as well. So, when my contract was set to renew, I upgraded to a smartphone with unlimited text and enough data to let me chat online. Which brings us to the here and now.

While I get more use out of my phone now than I did the old Sprint phone from way back when, I'm not exactly glued to it. Sure, I have apps and games and all that fun stuff, but when I'm with people, I'm content to just stick the phone in my pocket and not use it. Not everyone seems to have that ability.

Now, to be clear, I'm not complaining about answering a phone call or text while you're in a social situation. Sometimes you get a phone call that you have to take, or if you're in a situation where you can excuse yourself from the conversation to take a phone call, it's no big thing. Sometimes you have to fire back a quick text to keep your phone from ringing off the hook all night. Again, no biggie. Nor am I complaining about using a smart phone if it goes with the conversation. If you're showing someone a video or picture that you were talking about, that's perfectly acceptable.

No, I'm talking about when someone rudely checks out of a conversation to play with their phone. When you suffer from low self esteem and you know that you aren't the best conversationalist in the world, it can be very damaging when someone engages in a lengthy Facebook chat while in your company, or breaks out Candy Crush to see if they can get to the next level. It puts out the message that this person would rather be doing practically anything else instead of having a conversation with you.

A perfect example:

I used to hang out with a group of friends that would get together about once a week to grab something to eat and maybe see a movie. It was on one such night that I found myself standing in front of Cheddar's with a friend (we'll call him Scott because that's the name his mama gave him), waiting for our table to be ready. As we're waiting, we're having a conversation. Mid-sentence, Scott gets a text on his phone and drops the conversation to respond.

And proceeds to start a conversation with the person who texted him. The awkward pause turns into a rather lengthy awkward silence. And I go from mildly annoyed to increasingly angry. Finally, I sent my own text.

Eventually, the texting conversation dies down and Scott rejoins our conversation, not apologetic for rudely checking out of the conversation, but annoyed that I pointed it out to him.

And what was the text message that was so important? His friend was running a Dungeons & Dragon game for the first time and needed some pointers. No relatives in the hospital, no trouble at work, no crisis of any kind. Heck, the friend wasn't even running the game that night, so it was a text book example of "I'll call you back later and we'll talk".

What made the whole thing worse was that, even after I explained my perspective on the situation, he didn't see that he had done anything wrong. It's one thing to suspect that you aren't worth someone else's time, quite another to have them confirm it.