black and blue teeth

I’m not a violent man, but recently I’ve been inclined to induce great bodily harm on an ever growing population of seemingly innocent people. This segment of society is not limited to one particular race or creed. It crosses gender barriers and includes a wide array of age groups. It’s not determined by sexual preference and only moderately influenced by one’s income bracket. It is, however, the bane of those once called “in touch” with the technological revolution. I’m speaking of course of the ear-piece cell phone generation known as “blue-toothers” or in certain circles, “blue-teeth.”

In my childhood we had another name for those who appeared to be talking to themselves. They were referred to as “crazy people.” At what point did my neighborhood grocery store become everyone else’s speaker phone. I didn’t get the memo. Suddenly I’m forced to listen to (and pretend I’m not) a one sided conversation about "…that awful red dress that Jenny was wearing today…it was like so slutty…I know…I KNOW!…Do you think she’s sleeping with Mr. Finklestein…who…Jason…I thought he was gay."
And suddenly I’m fantasizing about whittling the cucumber in my basket into a prison style shiv and plunging it into her mechanically covered ear. As if you’re not annoying enough with your half-face, pink tint sunglasses and your knee-high fuck-friendly fur boots. Which brings me to another subject I would like to touch on. If there’s more fur on your boots than on the little toy poodle waiting impatiently in your Lexus, you might just be an asshole. In which case, there is no hope for either of us.