I was rear-ended in Hollywood a few months back. I call it the Thousand Dollar Sext, because the driver who hit me was too busy sexting with his girlfriend to notice that my car had stopped.
I thought better of inquiring as to why he was instant messaging naughty photos from a moving vehicle. Or why the photos were so urgent that they couldn’t wait until he hit a stoplight, or a brick wall. Or if they were taken while driving behind me.
I mean, TMI.
This in-car stenography has really gotten out of hand. I saw a documentary piece on texting wherein a fortysomething woman – who claimed that she always put her phone down when coming face to face with clerks in a store, because she felt it was rude to ignore them – stopped dead in the middle of making this statement, while being videotaped, to see who had just texted her.
This same documentary featured a dozen different smartphone owners claiming that they never texted while driving – intercut with harrowing moments of each of them LOL’ing at 70 mph while the cameraman composed a list of bequests.
I will personally admit to answering emails and texts at stoplights. But I draw the line at doing it while roaring down the freeway. I believe in the sanctity of human life.
I treat every person with the respect they…
I have complete and utter reverence for the…
I just got the funniest text. What was I saying?