Shut up.talking-cell-phone-bench-press-set

Sorry. Not you.

Unless you were  the asshole on his phone the entire time he was lifting last week. If that’s the case, SHUT UP.

Allow me to explain my rudeness (which is brought about by your rudeness).

I get it. I do. You’re super busy and important. You have many leather-bound books and your apartment smells of rich mahogany. And you quote movies to make people laugh because you probably don’t have a lot of original jokes of your own. I get it. And I get you.

But I don’t want to hear you. I’ve got my headphones in. Do you see? Of course you don’t. You’re not looking at me. You’re staring at yourself talking on the phone in the mirror and you’re enjoying what you see. Meanwhile, the rest of us are wondering if you’re going to be giving up that coveted flat bench anytime soon so we can actually use it.

But you don’t care. You’ve gotta talk to your buddy about that chick you got digits from last night. You haven’t called yet. You’re playing it cool. Playing the game. As a woman myself I’ll be surprised if those digits were actually real. But maybe you knew that. Maybe you called immediately when you got home to tell her goodnight and realized they weren’t real. And your feelings were hurt. And you cuddled up with your blankie and watched The New Girl to feel better. But you don’t want your bro to know that. So you’re gonna pretend like you didn’t call. And that you’re totally the man. And that you’re amazing.

I hear you.

No. I mean I physically hear you.

And you’re annoying. And you’re saying nothing of import. And this conversation can wait. So get off the phone and get back to that bench press. Or I, the only chick in this weight room, will throw you off of it. And that’ll be embarrassing for you. And your bro on the phone. And no amount of New Girl will be able to laugh it away.

So hang up, shut up, and please get back to lifting.

I thank you.

Man on bus decides cellphone conversation important enough to share with everyone.

Donald Ensel is a frequent user of both his cell phone and the local bus system, often finding himself talking on the phone while riding the bus. On occasion, Ensel decides that the conversation he’s having is so important and so exciting, that he needs to speak very loudly and share it with the other passengers.

This is what happened last Sunday when Ensel was heading north to his home via the city bus. He began talking on the phone to his wife, Jamie, when the two of them apparently got in a small tiff. According to Ensel, there was a miscommunication as to what his expectations were when he got home from work. He wanted to stay in and eat warm food, and Jamie was apparently ready to go out on the town.

Because he was so strongly rooted in his convictions, Ensel began speaking louder and with more authority. Eventually, he decided that he needed to share his side of the conversation with the entire bus, with the hopes that those bystander’s hearing it would agree with his side of the argument and would help morally support him.

Heather Long was on that same bus that night, and heard Ensel’s conversation. “I thought he sounded absolutely right, at least at this end of the conversation. I know I love to stay in and eat a nice meal at home,” she says. She added, “I enjoyed listening to the details of the conversation. They were a welcome reprieve from the mundane conversation I was having with my friend next to me.”

Claire Hudson, Long’s friend and conversation partner on that fateful day, had a different perspective. “I just wanted him to shut up,” she said. “He was being way too loud and nobody gives a —- about your conversation. Quiet down and recognize there are other people in this world.”

Ensel claimed sharing the conversation with the rest of the bus must have given him an advantage against his wife, claiming to have won the argument after all was said and done. “I’ll be sure to share more personal conversations on a daily basis while I’m in public places,” he said, beaming.

Woman loses cell phone, sends out amber alert

A young woman, who has chosen to remain anonymous for security reasons, experienced tragedy on Sunday very early morning as she was returning home from casual drinks with her friends. She lost her cell phone.

Her voice quivers still as she recounts the horror of the moments between using her beloved device and realizing it was no longer on her person.

“I was making a phone call as I was being driven home by my taxi. I paid the fare, tipped way too much because I was feeling generous, and went upstairs to my apartment.” Her eyes, still red from the waves of almost nonstop tears, begin to tear up as she continues, “That’s when I checked my jacket pockets and it was gone.” Her emotions get the better of her and there is a long, pregnant pause.

Currently without a roommate and unable to make any phone calls of any kind, the woman was completely unsure what to do. She immediately emailed the police with her situation and told them to put out the Amber alert, traditionally used for missing children.

“I felt it was appropriate to use this tactic when searching for my Velma,” she says referring to her trusty companion. “I am excrutiatingly inconvenienced right now without her. And distraught. I need the community help me out as much as possible. Time is of the essence in cases like these.”

After notifying the proper authorities, the woman says she retraced her steps, walking back outside to the curb where the taxi first dropped her off. She claims to have stood there for long spurts of time, very likely leaving herself open to a gentlemen getting the wrong idea of her agenda at the corner. She says she was simply hoping the driver would swing back over and hand Velma back within the hour.

Instead, she pulled over another taxi and had a long chat with possible tactics before asking a random man in a car driving by for the use of his phone. Hoping the man was not an axe murderer, she dialed the phone several times. The somewhat tipsy good sumaritan consistently offered the woman a seat in the car, which she happily refused as she stood outside eyeing her door while constantly calling. Velma was likely staying rather quiet in the back seat, however, since she had been placed on “vibrate-only” mode. The kind, drunk man asked the woman if she needed a ride home, still unable to grasp-despite her consistent answers-that she was already home. She thanked him once again and ran upstairs to her apartment…once he was out of sight.

She admits that Velma had been getting older lately and had been acting up quite a bit, but she insists that her phone had remained steadfast and loyal until its disappearance.

The woman insists that the inconvenience and headache caused by a lost cell phone can only be compared to the dramatic feeling of something like having your leg removed during the civil war in order to save the rest of your body from infection. Sure, you may get a wooden replacement and will be able to hobble the rest of your life, but you’ll always miss your original part. And the world will never look the same.