Cell Phone Blues

I was sitting on my front porch enjoying a fine cigar and glass of iced tea. A cluster of teenage boys were walking in the street--despite there being perfectly good sidewalks--and each had a cell phone. All were fixated, either texting or browsing the web; none of them were paying attention to where they were walking. Each in their own little world, oblivious to their surroundings. Big mistake.

One boy was walking rather close to the parked cars and apparently didn't see the one with an open door. The occupant of the car was sitting in the driver's seat, door wide open, and window down. I watched as the boy approached the outside of the door. Surely he will look up before bumping into it, I thought. Nope! He walked directly into it and banged his knee. And here's the funny part: his phone flew from his hand straight through the open window. Perfect shot. Two points.

"NO WAY!" he shouted, "my phone!" He didn't seem concerned about his knee. He limped around the door and retrieved his precious toy from the street. The occupant asked the boy if he was hurt.

"I ain't hurtin', but my phone's scratched up!" Then he said something real funny: "Why didn't you close your door when you saw me comin'?" What? Hello! Why weren't you paying attention to where you were walking, moron!

The boy rubbed his knee while walking away. The car's occupant closed the door and started the engine. And I sat on my porch, chuckling and enjoying a fine cigar and glass of iced tea...