Bryan W. Alaspa 1An Open Letter to the woman using her phone at the stoplight
June 30th 2009 13:52
Dear Lady at the Stoplight,
Did you really not see that the light had turned green as you sat there staring at your cell phone, touching the screen, leaving your greasy fingerprints all over your stupid phone? Did you honestly believe that it was the right time to start texting or e-mailing or whatever the hell you were doing? Did you not realize that it was rush hour and people might be in a hurry to get home and perhaps enjoy some small sliver of the nice day?
The rest of us, those of us behind you, attempting to wait patiently while you hunted and pecked for letters, saw what was happening. We were courteous and polite to the drivers around us and realized that we were not the only ones in the world. We all realized that it was not the right time to pretend like we were the only ones on the planet and start texting entire novels to people we supposedly love. We were concentrating on driving. Well, at the very least, I was, as I cannot speak for certain about every driver behind me.
Did you honestly not hear my honking my horn? Did you so completely tune out, so focused on the pearls of great wisdom transmitting from your fingertips to the touch screen and there, beyond the phone and the waiting car, to the receiving phone somewhere else? Did you think that someone else was honking at someone else? Did the thought not pass your mind, “hey, I am sitting here texting at a stoplight, perhaps that honking is an indication that the traffic situation has changed, maybe I had better put my damn phone down and pay attention to my driving?” Did no such thought cross your mind?
I swerved around you, pulling to the right and then slamming down on the gas in the hopes you would hear my engine rev and see my car go flying past you in an angry huff. I even looked at you, glaring in that way drivers do to indicate that you are a moron and despite it being a full thirty second after the light had changed (I am guessing here, it sure felt like thirty seconds at least) you were still intently, almost lovingly, staring at your damn phone. You therefore denied me even the satisfaction of glaring you in the eye so you would know you were a moron.
Can’t we, as Chicagoans, who are working class and, in theory, practical people, make a resolution to not by like New York and L.A. and stop using our cell phone when we drive? They have already made it illegal to keep that phone up to your ear and drive, but I still see many of you doing that. What does it take to get you to stop? I bet even a ticket, at this point, would not have moved this woman.
So, next time, if you feel compelled to pick up that phone while you sit at a light, I hope you pause and think again. Realize that there are people around you and that they want to get places. Leave your texting needs for when you reach your destination. That goes for the rest of you, too. Let’s not have this conversation again, Chicago, OK?
Did you really not see that the light had turned green as you sat there staring at your cell phone, touching the screen, leaving your greasy fingerprints all over your stupid phone? Did you honestly believe that it was the right time to start texting or e-mailing or whatever the hell you were doing? Did you not realize that it was rush hour and people might be in a hurry to get home and perhaps enjoy some small sliver of the nice day?
The rest of us, those of us behind you, attempting to wait patiently while you hunted and pecked for letters, saw what was happening. We were courteous and polite to the drivers around us and realized that we were not the only ones in the world. We all realized that it was not the right time to pretend like we were the only ones on the planet and start texting entire novels to people we supposedly love. We were concentrating on driving. Well, at the very least, I was, as I cannot speak for certain about every driver behind me.
Did you honestly not hear my honking my horn? Did you so completely tune out, so focused on the pearls of great wisdom transmitting from your fingertips to the touch screen and there, beyond the phone and the waiting car, to the receiving phone somewhere else? Did you think that someone else was honking at someone else? Did the thought not pass your mind, “hey, I am sitting here texting at a stoplight, perhaps that honking is an indication that the traffic situation has changed, maybe I had better put my damn phone down and pay attention to my driving?” Did no such thought cross your mind?
I swerved around you, pulling to the right and then slamming down on the gas in the hopes you would hear my engine rev and see my car go flying past you in an angry huff. I even looked at you, glaring in that way drivers do to indicate that you are a moron and despite it being a full thirty second after the light had changed (I am guessing here, it sure felt like thirty seconds at least) you were still intently, almost lovingly, staring at your damn phone. You therefore denied me even the satisfaction of glaring you in the eye so you would know you were a moron.
Can’t we, as Chicagoans, who are working class and, in theory, practical people, make a resolution to not by like New York and L.A. and stop using our cell phone when we drive? They have already made it illegal to keep that phone up to your ear and drive, but I still see many of you doing that. What does it take to get you to stop? I bet even a ticket, at this point, would not have moved this woman.
So, next time, if you feel compelled to pick up that phone while you sit at a light, I hope you pause and think again. Realize that there are people around you and that they want to get places. Leave your texting needs for when you reach your destination. That goes for the rest of you, too. Let’s not have this conversation again, Chicago, OK?
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