Love! Love! Love!
I do not want to be entertained by snippets of “Love in an Elevator” every time your mother calls. I do not want to hear “Sweet Caroline” for the 50th time in one hour because your kid doesn’t know how to wipe his own ass without asking you first. I am tired of Stewie Griffin’s maniacal laugh and of Bart Simpon’s “Cowabunga” or “Bananaphone.” You have made me sick of the theme to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, which I once loved. While it’s nice that your boyfriend calls you every hour on the hour, there is no need to announce it with a chorus of “All My Life” at full blast. And you, yes I’m looking at YOU, good for you for figuring out how to program different ring tones for every caller, but the repertoire of Huey Lewis’s greatest hits that pours out of your phone every ten minutes (does your sister know she’s hip to be square) is going to give me a mental breakdown pretty soon. You are all grown people. Adults. There is no reason I should be hearing snippets of Hannah Montana or High School Musical when I’m at work.
At any given moment during the day I can hear the Ducktales theme song, Celine Dion, Metallica, the Ohio State fight song and a myriad of sound effects, all set on high volume that make me jump out of my skin when someone’s phone goes off. Oh, and the text message sounds. Girl, if you send and receive about 500 text messages a day, maybe you shouldn’t have a woman screaming as the alert sound. And maybe you have a bit of problem. And perhaps you think having the sound of a fire alarm as your ring tone is funny, but who will be laughing last when I beat the crap out of you with that phone? Me, that’s who.
You are all driving me crazy. At least have the decency to take your cell phone with you when you leave your desk so the rest of us aren’t subjected to “Do You Think I’m Sexy” when your girl calls, and then the subsequent beeps at ten second intervals to let you know you missed her call, which is a moot point as she’s going to call you back in thirty seconds anyhow because WHY DON’T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE, BABY? I HAVEN’T TALKED TO YOU IN OVER TWENTY MINUTES AND I’M LONELY FOR YOU! How did I know she said that? Because you are talking on fucking SPEAKERPHONE. My god, as if the ringtones weren’t bad enough now I have to hear everyone’s most intimate phone conversations about their love life, their gynecologist appointment, or the minute details of what they are making for dinner.
Please, I am begging you. Put your cell on vibrate during the day. If you can’t do that much for everyone around you, at least turn the volume down. It’s bad enough that it’s 2008 and every radio station in New York is still Led Zeppelin obsessed, but to torture me with “Stairway to Heaven” turned up to 11 every time your phone rings is enough to push me into a workplace incident.
I am on a mission now. Every time someone leaves their cell phone unattended at their desk, I am going to change it to vibrate, or better yet, silent. I really don’t care if they miss that all important 70th call from their 25 year old son wondering what he should wear to his job interview at McDonald’s. I’ve become a superhero of sorts. The Silencer. Wherever a cell phone is blasting an Aerosmith song, I will be there to silence it. Wherever a text alert sounds like a fog horn, I will be there to silence it. I am a modern day avenger, a cell phone vigilante and my superhero theme song is the sound of silence.
my former boss had Tom Sawyer for his ONLY ring tone. He was the VP of marketing at my company and his phone rang every five seconds. Set to eleven. And then there was the commute into the city on the bus. Two hours one-way with all the douchy wall street dick bags alternately screaming into their Blackberries at their wives, making kissy noises at their girlfriends, and then snapping orders at their minions. I would have died without headphones.