Allow me to set the scene: It is later in the evening, but not so late that I can’t cop a ticket for that night’s Powerball drawing. After nearly 12 grueling hours of pretending to enjoy working with the public, I am standing in a fluorescent-lit gas station, clutching said Powerball ticket that would eventually net me a life-altering, empire-building eight fucking dollars. I am minding my own business, enjoying the quiet serenity of old coffee fumes and the essence of sandwiches in the hot case getting ready to expire.
Then, he walks in. THAT fucking guy.
He didn’t just walk in, actually. His loud-ass conversation arrived approximately three seconds before his body did. This absolute legend in his own mind was holding his phone, complete with a busted screen, flat in front of his face, screaming into the bottom microphone. Naturally, he had the phone set to maximum volume, making what I am guessing was a person on the other end sound like an over caffeinated demon screeching from inside a steel drum.
A Simple Question
Why do people do this shit?!
In my heart, I have to believe that there is a special place in Hell for folks who treat the gas pump and other public places like their own personal podcast studio. Nobody, at any place at 9:00 PM or any other time of the day, needs to hear about the daily exploits of your co-worker’s neighbor’s dog’s groomer’s mailman’s third-grade teacher. Like, put a lid on it. Hold the phone to your ear like a civilized human being, or even better, conduct this obviously important meeting of the minds in the solitude of your car out in the parking lot.
The Checkout Counter Duet: the Ballad of Ignorance and Lack of Consideration for Others
The absolute apex of this sociopathic behavior happens at the cash register. The speakerphone d-bag approaches the cashier with an outright refusal to pause the call. Instead, they engage in a chaotic, three-way performance. The poor cashier is trying to ask if they want a bag, the random demon voice on the phone is yammering about a missing garage door opener, and the aforementioned d-bag is just grunting and gesturing wildly in a way that does everything but indicate an answer to the bag question. The air becomes thick with audacity for the rest of the schlubs in line who just want to complete their transactions and go on with their lives. For them, this clueless ass hat has turned the gas station into an IN-convenience store. For the ass hat, it is a level of unearned confidence that honestly borders on a psychiatric deficiency.
The View from My High Horse that I Bought with my $8
The level of self-importance required to broadcast mundane, brain-melting casual conversations to a room full of strangers is staggering. It isn’t like you’re rushing to meet an important deadline on a multi-million dollar merger. It is usually just some anecdote about your dentist accidentally wearing mismatched shoes or your worthless take on an argument in which you’re not even involved. These little tidbits of idiocracy can just as easily be exchanged without forcing the innocent public to be your audience. Despite the old adage, all the world is NOT a stage.
If you use speakerphone in public: buy an earpiece. Or better yet, just internalize your thoughts like the rest of the world.
I Can't Be The Only One 
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