So, we’re sitting in a very public place, having a soft drink, making a mental list of the things we need to pick up, lest we get home and realize we’ve forgotten the One Thing we really needed.

There’s this guy nearby. He’s on his cell phone, and he’s not only speaking very loudly, he’s obnoxious and throwing variations of the f-bomb around like candy, being belligerent and berating someone for the behavior of their cat, who he wants out of the house by tonight.

No one else cares about the cat, but we’re sure getting an earful about it. He’s just mean enough that I’m not about to confront him, and I’m sure everyone else was steering clear for the same reason. The guy is clearly either a lunatic, an idiot, or both.

We’re all suffering through his cell phone conversation, cringing over the language and the venom behind it. And then his cell phone rings.

He’s “talking” to someone, yelling, and the damn thing rings. He’s doing this for whatever perverse reason, which makes approaching him an even worse idea. No telling what he’d do.

But…damn. If you’re going to be an unbearable pretentious, performance artist jerk, at least turn the freaking phone off.

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