Cell phone nation

Standing in line at the post office near work, I waited patiently - and quietly - to send a package.

Two spaces ahead of me, a familiar noise broke the silence. It was a ringtone advertising its catchy matador theme. The owner, clearly in his 60s, was wearing a letter-style jacket with a southwestern design on the back. He assured the caller he would pick up more W-2 forms.

Directly in front of me, another phone began to ring. Its owner dug through her purse as the music blared loudly from her shoulder bag, and the phone continued ringing until she discovered who the call was from. After that, she slipped into chat mode, passing the time with a personal conversation.

Yet another ring, nothing fancy, began to fill the air behind me. And another. One, no, two more. And all the while, people continued to chat into their phones, not afraid to let the public hear their one-sided conversations.

A person answered his phone while he was making a transaction at the window, and the postal employee looked more than a little annoyed. I bet she was mentally ticking off the minutes until quitting time.

Later I realized had I been carrying my phone (it was at home, forgotten on the counter), I would have joined in the cell-phone medley with a jazzy rendition of Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead.