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Dudes, keep it in your pants
Maybe my inner Luddite is rearing his hoary head, but why is it the case, these days, that dining out means sharing a table with your BlackBerry? It’s starting to become a problem: No sooner am I seated than a shiny gizmo has already taken its place, face up, usually next to the knife setting, as if it had every right to be there. Of course, it won’t shut up throughout the meal.
I met some friends at Buddha’s Belly last weekend. It ended up being a large gathering of a dozen people, squeezed uncomfortably around three (mismatched) tables that management had pushed together. Despite the cramped quarters, no less than four members of the BlackBerry ilk were out at any given time. Granted, the Lakers game was on, but did every guy really have to pull out his representative hardware?
Correct me if I’m wrong, but this was never a problem when we just had cell phones to deal with. Even when mobiles were like carrying around a 2x4, they didn’t make such an insistent appearance at the dinner table. These cracked-out status symbols of the new millennia are really setting off unsavory primordial urges.
Would you please take your dick-slinging contest outside? I’m eating here. Oh, your smart new iPhone is too big in your pocket? Heh, like I haven’t heard that one before.
—Jiyeon Yoo
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