Can't you put down the frickin cell phone for 1 minute?????

“Josh? Hey, it’s Bill. Eh, not much. How’s Betsy? Hey, good to hear. Really? Oh man, that’s hilarious. Say, since I have you on the phone… Can you tell me again how I should wipe my ass? Yeah, I wrote it down, but the piece of paper is at my desk.”

I picture the cell phone user transmitting grunts from a bathroom and the other phone is in a conference room on speakerphone.

I said I don’t know WHY it bothers me, it just does.

I think that the cell phone glued to the woman’s ear is the new “I have a boyfriend” Heisman for potential suitors. Easier than actually having to interact with the rapist scum who only want one thing.

My post was mainly directed at the OP, SweetLucy, who apparently is so paranoid about strangers hearing her poop that it’s an INVASION OF HER PRIVACY OH NOES for someone to use a cellphone in the stall next to her in a public bathroom.

While I like the flushing and farting ideas, I’d really rehearse some lines from Austin Powers.

WHO’S .(Thump, Bam). THE BOSS .(Wham, Slam). OF NUMBER TWO!!??

Fart. Scream in agony. Sigh loudly with relief. Flush. Pause. “It’s overflowing!”. Slam stall doors and run from the room. Giggle.

Naw, say the following in a falsetto:

“Hey, Jennifer! Do you have a tampon…wait… Is there a MAN in here? OH MY GOD! THERE’S A MAN IN THE LADIES’ ROOM!!! EEEEEEK (start pounding on the stall door) YOU PERVERT! JENNIFER! GO GET SECURITY!! EEEEEK!”

It’s not just in the public washrooms that I find this behavior rude. Last night I had to listen to an older woman “converse” with her friend?daughter?mother? re someone she had just visited(probably a new college student) on a packed commuter train. I heard all about how she bought toilet paper for “her” and other sundry items and how this girl said that she was going to put her RAs phone number into her cell phone, just in case, so the caller felt better about the whole thing. Then I heard all about the menu choices for their big dinner out. And then she finally hung up… only to make another call to yet another person and relay the exact same information–down to the toilet paper.

You want to have these inane conversations with your loved ones? I’m fine with that–just don’t do it at full volume on a commuter train or on the bus.

Why do these people think we want to be privy to this stuff?

I would so have pretended to call Karen in Dexter’s scenario. Absolutely classic!

Win. :slight_smile:

No. No, I cannot put my cell phone down.

Sent from my iPhone

Traveling down the Interstate, a man decided to make a stop at one of those rest areas on the side of the road. He went into the washroom. The first stall was taken so he went into the second stall. He had just sat down when he heard a voice from the next stall…

  • “Hi there, how is it going?”

Not being the type to normally strike up conversations with strangers in washrooms on the side of the road, the man didn’t know what to say. Finally he replied,

  • “Not bad…”

Then the voice says:

  • “So, what are you doing?”

Our guy is starting to find that a bit weird, but he responded,

  • “Well, I’m going back to Colorado…”

Then the stranger on the phone said in a flustered tone of voice,

  • “Look I’ll call you back. Every time I ask you a question this idiot in the next stall keeps answering me.”

Hi, James? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

Hi, Beth? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

Hi, Rick? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

Hi, Alfie? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

Hi, Brittany? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

Hi, George? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

Hi, Samantha? It’s me, Brian. Oh, nothin’. Whatchu guys up to tonight? Huh? WHATCHU GUYS UP TO TONIGHT?!? Oh. Cool. Hey, I just got on the wrong train. You think you could pick me up? I SAID I GOT ON THE WRONG TRAIN. Hello? Hello? HELLO?

FUCK!!!

In my view, it’s totally different when other women talk to each other in the bathroom, because I know it’s only them and that it’s only women. With a cell phone conversatioh, I have no idea who’s on the other line listening.

Yes, I guess I am paranoid. I worry about people like you who have no concept of privacy. Do you go to the bathroom out on the street in front of everyone? :rolleyes: why not, it’s a totally natural thing.

A stranger, if the cellphone or the listener’s hearing is obscenely good, might know what it sounds like when you urinate! With no way to connect that to you! OoooOOOOOoooOOOOooOOOOOO!

I say again, :rolleyes:

Hee, I was going to comment about how “boom box” is just the name for it, it doesn’t literally sound like “Boom Boom Boom” and then I thought how brilliant it would be to play a recording of “Boom Boom Boom” on your boom box.

Nothing personal, but I think you’re the one with no concept of privacy. I wouldn’t take a shit in public, but I’m perfectly comfortable taking one on a toilet in a bathroom. If some idiot in the next stall is on the phone, and the person at the other end hears my loud, echoey farts and explosive diarrhea, that’s their problem. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing, where I’m supposed to be doing it. There’s no way they can associate the noises with me; rather, they’ll probably think their phone companion is an asshole for subjecting them to it.

It has nothing to do with privacy.

I honestly do not care who is having a cell phone conversation near me as long as they aren’t

  • extremely loud (like my mother-in-law who thinks cell phones equals 1950s long distance technology);
  • holding up a line where I’m waiting behind them because they are attending to their call and not the service worker;
  • talking about something which falls under the TMI category - extensive descriptions of medical procedures, why someone needs a colonscopy, STDs and those who love them.
  • related to the latter: I don’t want to hear you try to schedule a hookup. Thank you.

I was on the can at work and some guy sits down in the stall next to me. I hear a bunch of shuffling around as he’s getting situated…then I hear what sounds like him unfolding a newspaper and it’s apparent he’s really setting up camp in there.

There’s a few seconds of silence once he’s found his newspaper section of interest.

And then…the unmistakable sound of him opening…and then proceeding to eat…a bag of potato chips.

WTF?! I mean seriously…W…T…F?!