Waiting for Gouda

At the concert, I witnessed several instances of the most irritating use yet of cellular telephone technology. I don’t mean to keep harping on the fact that 99% of cell phone use seems to be utterly ridiculous, but… well, you tell me… What happens is this: Some knucklehead putz with a cell phone remembers that one of his dumbass friends is also supposed to be at the same concert, and that said dumbass also has a cell phone. Putz dials Dumbass’s number and says something like, “Hey! Are you at the show? Yeah! Yeah! Me too! I’m in the lower section. Section 113! Yeah! Yeah! Where are you?” (Note that Putz has fulfilled the Cardinal Rule of moronic cell-phone use.)

And then, once Dumbass has apparently told Putz which part of the room he is in, Putz stands up and starts waving his arms. Soon we see some Dumbass, almost certainly the Dumbass in question, way across the arena, also standing and waving his arms. Putz and Dumbass now get excited and jump up and down and wave at each other.

From across the room.

While talking on the phone.

About how they can see each other across the room.

Sweet Jesus, I would have sworn, prior to Monday evening, that this would be an activity that only toddlers and the mentally retarded would find remotely interesting. Look! I’m here and you’re here and we can see each other! Yeah, that’s awesome! You’re over there, and I’m over here, and here we are and we’re talking on the phone and it’s, like, totally cool! I mean, it’s like I can talk to you on the phone and see you at the same time! With my eyes! Wow!