This blog is called Cranky Little Old Lady for a reason. I see things that make me cranky. My latest crank rant is about people on their phones. Now before your eyes glaze over and you go "Yes, grandma, how many times we got to hear about people on their phones?", I will point out that until people stop doing inconsiderate, dangerous or just plain stupid things with phones in hand, there will always be other people who point it out. Today is my turn.
We've all seen the parent so engrossed on the phone while their precious toddler is running amuck in a store and clueless parent doesn't give a bee's behind. Or people walking down the sidewalk so busy texting they don't see the oncoming bicycle or the huge dog about to get up in their business. We've seen the videos of people walking into traffic, fountains, lamp posts. And of course we've heard the horrors of drivers killing or being killed while texting and driving. Well, I've got a new one for you.
Big black dog and I walk a regular route most days. And in the last couple of weeks, we keep running into the same situation. Some backstory: If I hear or see someone get into their car, I'll wait until they pull out of the driveway. Why wait you innocently ask? Because people don't look until they've nearly run you over. They are either so sure no one would possibly be walking (what - no car?!), or they honestly can't see for the shrubs, fences and other obstacles in the way. I've just learned that in the interests of safety first, it's easier to wait until they come bombing out their driveway, enjoy the absolute look of shock when they see us standing there, and smile and wave as they sheepishly drive off. I make bets with my big guy on who will wave acknowledgement, who will pretend we don't exist, and who will actually mouth the words "I'm sorry." Now for the latest wrinkle.
One woman gets in her car, starts to back up, and then stops. She's on her phone. The perfect time to scoot past you think. No. Just as you hope she's so absorbed you can go by, she starts to back up again. Ah, you muse. This time is for real. Foiled again. She stops. Fiddles with the phone. At no time has she looked left or right to notice pedestrians or other cars. And she's one of the few who has a clear view of sidewalk and street. You wait some more. And wait. And wait. Just when you're about to brave the attempt to make it past the driveway, she starts up again in earnest. And EVERY SINGLE TIME, she she is shocked - shocked - to see us there. Now you might reasonably think she would get a clue and resist the urge to repeat this behavior. You would be wrong. Like heroin, phones make us feel good. They make us forget that just yesterday, we did something not so smart while we were on them. Or we ignored something or someone we shouldn't have ignored. And like heroin, that feeling lures us back into the glow of the seductive screen.
I'm not blameless. I nearly never watch TV anymore without phone in hand. I answer texts promptly and I'm a total sucker for the lure of a new incoming email. But I also believe that one should be aware of one's surroundings, and one should certainly put the dime bag of heroin away before putting the car in reverse.
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