Cell Hell

I do not want to hear a stranger's phone call.

This is not to say that there are no appropriate times to have cell phone conversations. Outside? Check. In the privacy of an automobile? Check.

In a class while I'm trying to work? Please, no.

I have two classes Monday afternoon and one Monday evenings, which leaves me with a two and a half hour break between classes. Since I commute thirty miles, there's really no reason to drive home only to turn around. Besides, why do that when I can use the wonderful resources the university provides and prepare for classes at school instead of taking time away from my night?

After my second afternoon class, I went to a resource room to write notes on the reading. It's how I study. There were seven tables in the room, six of which were free. I took one, which left five free. These are large tables with the very uncomfortable wooden chairs schools are so widely known for.

I had barely had time to start reading when a rather large woman entered the room and sat down at the same table as I. Now, I don't claim to own the tables in this room. Were the room full, I'd have shared my seat with her, had that been possible. But sitting down almost next to me, when there were clearly so many other tables available in the large room, when I was clearly trying to work? This I did not understand.

To make matters worse, she was talking on her cell phone. Loudly.

I'm normally a nice person. I'm quiet, keep to myself, and have a wickedly sarcastic sense of humor that, if I'm not careful, will quietly attack a person before he or she realizes it. I also have a look I can give. Everyone knows the look; it's the look that begs the person to please, explain what drugs was Mom taking when she decided to not continue with the abortion that was so obviously in progress. Because really, what else can explain your existence?

Apparently, I gave her that look, the one I'm usually so careful to conceal unless it's warranted. Since I had just run a mile in 100 degree weather because the computer center decided it needed to see a photo identifation simply because I dared to walk in rather than call, then so be it. I'm not going to hide my frustration.

To her credit, this rather large woman did stop her conversation long enough to quietly (?) ask me if someone was sitting where her belongings were located. When I shook my head no, she continued on with her conversation, even more loudly than before. After a few seconds of my staring at her, she took her books and cell phone conversation and left the room.

Of course, this probably would not have bothered me so much had it not repeated itself once I was in the classroom for my evening class. I was deeply involved with my notes when my classmate came in and threw her books down; this was only an introduction as she, too, decided to share her phone conversation with everyone else in the room.

How lucky I was that I was the audience.