Why Readers Hate Cell Phone Users

I took my wife to her doctor's office the other day. I knew it may take a while, so I brought a good book with me to read in the waiting room. I've never minded much having to wait at a doctor's office, or for my turn to get a haircut, or to get my oil changed, because I can sit and do one of my favorite things, reading, while I wait.

There was a woman in the doctor's office talking on her cell phone. Oh, she wasn't just talking, she was dug in. She had gone to the trouble of finding an outlet and plugging her phone in so she could yammer for a good long time. No, it wasn't a business call. No, she wasn't making important arrangements with her children. She and the party on the other end talked about things ranging from the discomforts of the jail cell a mutual acquaintance was forced to live in, the surprising size of another friend's new apartment, how dry her hands were (why ain't that new lotion working?), how hard her work was these days, and more. I heard it all. I read the same page three or four times before closing my book and occupying myself with staring at the wall in bored desperation.

It's beyond asking why don't these people get it. There have always been, and will always be people who simply don't get it. The cell phone just gives them a new way to express their lack of concern for others, their sense of self-entitlement, their obliviousness to their environment, whatever you want to call it.

And so more and more places that were once fit for reading go by the wayside. I remember when the airlines were recently considering letting people talk on cell phones during flights. One commentator noted that if they did, and then flooded the cabin with icy ankle deep swamp water, air travel would be just about perfect. For me, reading is the only reasonable way to pass the time on a long flight. Take that away, and I don't know what I'd do.

There is a growing antipathy between readers and cell phone talkers. It still shocks me that people don't simply know that you can't carry on a telephone conversation in the middle of the library. When someone does, people who are trying to read will glare at the offender, then at a staff member, indicating their belief that we need to intercede. When we do, people act all surprised, or challenging. Some will even ask where the sign is that says they can't. One on each door. One on the circulation desk. One in the reference room. One in the teen area. One by each public access computer. That's what I want to answer, but instead I politely suggest that the call should be made, or taken, in the front or back foyer.

I'm sure that some of these people consider me impolite, or worse, old-fashioned, for not knowing how important their cellular communications are -- certainly more important than someone who's just reading some old book. But if there's one thing I'd like to do as a librarian, it's to preserve what silence is left in the library, so that people who like to read in peace may do it.