The Cellular Telephone and High-tech Cretins
I hoped against hope that the incoherent acoustic blasts would move on and way from me. But they didn't. So I moved into the books section--only to be haunted by the cell yell still. At least three times this roving rude-machine intersected me in that haunted place. I learned (against my will) that Shawna and her spouse were "a piece of work" and that Shawna was generally screwed up, as did other helpless listeners who were attempting to find music or books or even read books. (How often is it possible to read books in public any more?)
What can be done about these high-tech cretins? Perhaps someone--even I--should have simply said, "Excuse me. Your conversation is bothering people. Please stop." Of course, that could have triggered fisticuffs and/or a law suit. Calling down "fire from heaven" would have been less embarrassing (since I could pray it under my breath), but probably less effective--given God's mercy and all.
Does anyone have any suggestions?