Look. It’s just too hot for me to type. The air-con unit is raining on my head, the ice-cream man has been attacked by rampaging businessmen and the pubs are full of workers on “a long lunch”. Expect slightly sub-standard articles from me today, because I’m melting and the shorts just aren’t doing it.
Outside, despite the heat here in the UK, people are still trying to stare at their screens as they walk around. Never mind the beautiful scenery (you know what I mean), they need to be checking an unimportant update that their “Facebook friend” added.
It’s probably a picture of them having “Mad bantz” with someone in a pub, followed by another update about “The hangover from hell”. Hilarious.
Oh look. A picture of the kebab they had last night. Brilliant.
Face it, you don’t care. You went to school with them in 1998 and you hardly know who they are. You just want to nose into their life and see if it’s worse than yours. If it is, great, because we secretly love to see other people having a miserable time. Especially those people at school you only half-knew but inexplicably added you as a “friend”. HA! Look! They’re working in a crappy job and they got higher grades than you.
Result. 🙂
If you get too far into that screen, you turn into a phone zombie. You forget to navigate around others on the pavement, and they’re failing to notice you because they’re doing exactly the same thing. Look around this lunchtime and you’ll see it – people head-down, staring blankly at another world. Then BAM! You’ve walked into someone, or something.
Never, though, have I seen someone so engrossed in a call that this happens…
Ice-cream. Give me ice-cream.