Sunday, January 7, 2007

A Piece on Ear Pieces

"Haaa haa haa, yeah me too. Well, tell you what sweetie, you tell Mr. Smithenhopper I send my love, and tell little Jacob to keep his head up.... Yeah.. Haa haa, Yeah. Well alright then. Ciao."

The cue ball to my right in the bright blue jogging suit nods to himself, proud of his swankier than thou "ciao" at the end. The the form fitting nubbin in his ear blinking away every four seconds. He checks himself one more time in the mirror, the one he seemed to be having a conversation with, pushes it away, taps on the glass and points. "I want to see that one please."


I think it's great to watch as the bluetooth blinkie people chat about last night's date to the grocery store selection of chewing gum. It's like they've been good friends for years. I totally support the use of the ear bits when driving and even running around the office, or while picking your nose in the elevator. But there is no need for the bluetooth when you're primping your bald head in a mirror at the Tiffany counter.

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