At breakfast, this morning, there were two girls seated together at a table ( I should mention that I am working away at the moment, they weren’t in my dining room). But, throughout the whole of breakfast, they hardly spoke a word to each other, engrossed as they were in their mobile phones.
I had something similar last week when I’d visited a friend who lives about an hour’s drive away. I left his house for the journey home and almost immediately needed a wee. So, I stopped just a short while later when I happened across a McDonalds. Whilst there, I thought I may as well have something to eat, as it was getting late and I suddenly realised that I hadn’t eaten for several days.
I took my tray – laden with fast food goodness – to the nearest table and sat down.
Seated around me were five couples: two girls in one corner; two boys in another and three girl/boy combos.
It was deadly silence in there. No-one was speaking. Everyone had their mobiles out and was busy texting or doing the Twitters or whatever… their thumbs flying over the tiny keyboards.
All apart from one lad, who, everytime he tried to whisper something to his girlfriend, was told to “sshhh!”, her concentration entirely on the phone in her hands.
I wolfed down my food and left. In all the time I was there, I don’t think I saw any of them speak more than a sentence or two to each other.
It’s truly ironic that mobile phones seem to be killing the art of conversation.
Ahoy hoy! I didn’t know you were a Danny Bakerist? Or did I? Hmm… I think maybe I did. In the dim and distant.
Anyway.
Stopping at McDonalds for a toilet break is known as having a McWee. Or a McPoo, obv.
Indeed I am.
But the post title was actually a reference to the well known fact, that Mr Bell suggested it as the correct greeting for people to use when answering his newly invented electric telephone.
As. You. Well. Know.
Scene: A MacDonalds about a half an hours drive from Luton
A group of local youngsters were gathered at a table discussing the terrible truth about their missing friend Bradley
Britney Speaking, “Well when I heard what Brad was up to I was flabbered”
Wayne Speaking: “ What’s flabbered”
Britney: Speaking: “ Oh it’s something my Dad often says when I take Ethan home, I think it means surprised”
Ethan: Speaking : I’m not so sure about that the last time I came around your house he asked me to nip up the road to buy him 20 Rothmans, and then he sniggered to himself”
Roxanne: Speaking : I know what you mean Brits, I felt the same, why did he do it, why?
Samson: Speaking I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn’t listen, he said it’s just something he’s wanted to do for ages, then bang he sold his bike and well we all know the rest eh?
Suddenly a middle aged man pushes past the crew in a panicky fashion and heads straight for the restrooms (or if we were in a café the Bog)
Oscar: Texting: “ What’s with him”
Britney Texting :“ Looks like he’s in trouble”
Ethan Texting :“ Maybe he’s followed through”
They all text :“LOL”
Britney Texting :“ Look he’s coming over here with his McHorsey Burgers, Fries, Hash Browns, & A Diet Coke
Martha Texting: “ He reminds me of someone , who is it?”
Ethan Texting :“ Looks like a knob”
They all text : “LOL”
Then Oscar whispers to Charlotte :”I know who he looks like”
Charlotte Texting: Shh he’ll hear you, use your texts and don’t worry he’s too old to know what we’re doing”
Oscar Texting: “ He looks like that Jimmy Saveloy”
Britney Texting “ Don’t say that, every time I hear that name a shiver runs up my wotsit”
Ethan : Texting: “ Blimey he eats fast look he’s finished now”
Wayne Texting: Oh good he’s gone, now tell me what has Brad actually done that sooooo not cool?”
Britney Speaking : “He’s taken up Amateur Radio”
They all LOL !!!!!!
This is because kids don’t talk anymore. Why go to all that effort of opening your mouth and maybe even smudging your new lippy from Rammel when you can simply text the person sitting right next to you? LOL is far quicker to text than actually stopping what you’re doing and partaking in laughter.
It’s a sorry state of affairs Masher, it truly is.
Arthur – yes: ha- bloody ha! Git.
Jules – Smudge my lippy? Never!