While studying for Comps ...

Today was like any other day. Dark, gloomy, wars and rumors of wars all around me. Ok, so it wasn't like that at all. But I decided I needed to get out of the house to study. (My room has the unfortunate capacity to connect me continuously to the internet, a deplorable fact which causes me much frustration. The consequence of this is that if I want to get any work done, I had darn well better not be in it. The consequence of that is that my room never gets cleaned. Etc.) So I went to Starbucks. You know, that idyllic place where infidels sacrifice their student loan checks on the altar of trendy coffee? Well I thought I'd blow off a Hamilton and toke up, so I went on over, to the one across from the mall. The day before yesterday, I had met a guy there, Wouldntyouliketoknowwhatmynameis (Woody, for short), who happens to be in the Politics department (suprise! and he seems like quite a good guy, too!). Well, today, while I was there, he came in talking on his cell phone. I made a friendly gesture in his direction, and he put his books by the window and went into the bathroom. I bent my head over my books and was lost to the world for some time. Suddenly, I realized that I was going to implode if I didn't eat something fast, so I rushed over to the counter to purchase a slice of Pumpkin loaf. (Yeah, $2. For a slice of bread. Gosh.) As I walked back to my table, I decided to chew the fat with Woody (did I mention that he's a really friendly guy?). And he informed me that he thought his cell phone had been stolen. He thought he had left it in the bathroom, and now it wasn't there. Well, I said, call Verizon right away, and offered my phone for his use. He said that he was going to walk over to the Verizon store, but could he use my phone to try and call his phone to see if it was around and he just was overlooking it? Sure, I said. You know, it's things like this that make me wonder how our culture can possibly survive another 50 years. I mean, there is no benefit to a stolen phone unless you have the technology to reprogram it, because Verizon right away will disable it if you report it stolen. But really folks, really, stealing a phone and then answering it when the rightful owner calls? At first I thought (pardon the salt) that the thief just had some serious balls. But then he demanded fifty bucks ransom (maybe he wanted to get coffee, too?). Woody started a conversation with the fellow, and it turned out that he was over at the mall. Woody couldn't hear him very well, so he walked outside. He still had my phone with him, so I kept paying attention as he stood by the trash can and stared off into the middle distance. Maybe ten minutes later, I heard some yelling and looked up, and the store manager was shouting at three or four pre-teen punks who had gathered around Woody and were hoping to make a little exchange. As I recall, the conversation was a bit one-sided. It went something like "Either you get the hell out of my store or I'm calling the police." She then came inside at a brisk trot and rushed back out, dialing furiously. The kids had decided that things just weren't really working out the way they had planned, so they chose the better part of valor and got the hell out. Woody followed after at a canter. He still had my phone. So, I returned to my study, and a bit later noticed a police car had pulled up to the store. More time passed, and then Woody returned, with a grin. He said he felt really bad for those kids. Which is a good point. I mean, they're in for some rough times if they don't know enough to not answer a phone they just stole. Apparently one of them had tried to return and had promptly gotten arrested. Unfortunately for him, he had a bag full of stolen merchandise from the mall, so things weren't looking too good. The other kids, uncaught, were still answering the phone when it rang, though the police were on the other end this time. The one kid they arrested had coughed up the names of the others, so the prospect of Woody getting his phone back was not as dim as it had been. But man, I just can't get over it. You know, I think this is what's the problem with movies like The Godfather or video games like Grand Theft Auto. They don't corrupt adults (at least, not as obviously) but the 12 year old knucklehead with a broken home? "Man, that's so cool. I just beat up that little old lady and took the $.55 in her purse." No sense, no common sense at all. Man If you're wondering, I managed to read two Platonic dialogues through it all. And I got my phone back.