I got a Bluetooth. There’s a new law in Washington that makes it a primary offense to use a handheld cell phone while driving. I’m a rule follower (most of the time) and so I got a Bluetooth.
I hate Bluetooths (Blueteeth?). When I used to work in the cafe at the bookstore, I’d have customers come to the counter while wearing an invisible Bluetooth and I’d always think they were talking to me and they never were and then they’d glare at me and I’d be embarrassed and I hate Bluetooths (Blueteeth?). But I also wouldn’t enjoy getting a $194 ticket so I got one. And it’s nice to be able to talk while driving without having to hold my phone (or put it in my lap while I’m trying to park and shouting, “HANG ON! YOU ARE IN MY LAP! I AM PARKING RIGHT NOW AND NEED BOTH HANDS TO DRIVE. PLEASE DO NOT HANG UP. I WILL TELL YOU A JOKE WHILE I AM PARKING SO THAT YOU ARE NOT BORED WHILE YOU ARE IN MY LAP.”).
So yes, the Bluetooth prevents that particular situation. It does not, however, come with an alarm that sounds when you are about to eat your foot like whoa.
The other day, as I was driving to Jason’s for Trashy TV Night, I called Linds and had the following conversation:
Linds: Hey! What are you doing?
Me: I am BLUETOOTHING you!
Linds: Oh! Well, yay!
Me: I know! It sounds vaguely dirty but it ISN’T! It just means I have a phone in my ear!
Linds: Heheheheee. I know what a Bluetooth is. Although it does sound sort of dirty.
Me: RIGHT? But it isn’t! It just means I do not have to hold my phone while we talk!
Linds: That’s right!
Me: It only SOUNDS sexual but it is not sexual it all!
Linds: Right! Because it just means you have a phone in your ear!
Me: IN MY EAR.
As we cleared that up, I realized I needed gas and pulled over.
Me: I kind of feel like a douchebag though, talking on a Bluetooth.
Linds: Well, you will only use it in the car. You won’t be that girl walking around the mall or the grocery store talking to nobody.
Me: Yeah. Although. I am about to get out of my car to fill up with gas AND I am still talking on the phone on my Bluetooth and now I am out of my car and I am still using the Bluetooth because it’s nice to have my hands free for the gas pumping and stuff.
Linds: Well, that’s okay though. Because it’s still a car-related activity.
Me: But is it a risky little game though? Like, am I sliding down a slope and at the bottom are Ed Hardy shirts and Chinese symbol tattoos?
Linds: Maybe. My kids at school wear Ed Hardy shirts though.
Me: Ooooh. You teach a bunch of douchebags!
Linds: Well, they are young.
Me: That’s true. When I was 13, I wore Tweety Bird everything.
Linds: Oooh, I wore a lot of Mickey Mouse!
Me: Man. We were a couple of huge nerds. Your kids at school are douches and we were nerds.
Linds: But you aren’t a douchebag right now.
Me: I’m close though! Right now it’s a Bluetooth in my ear as I fill up my gas tank. Next thing you know, I’ll have a tattoo of barbed wire going around my bicep while wearing an Ed Hardy t-shirt. That would be the worst. I’d be the douchiest douche who ever douched.
During this whole conversation, I’d been filling up my car. Just then, the person on the other side of the pump walked around to go into the convenience store to pay. The man who, up until that moment, I didn’t know was there. The man with the barbed wire tattoo. Wearing the Ed Hardy t-shirt. The man who was glaring at me, the girl who had essentially just called him a douche.
I’m writing to say I’m not sorry. You wear the Ed Hardy shirt, you’re letting everyone know you have douche leanings. Recognize.
Still though. That might not have been my classiest moment. It was close to being the klassiest though.
So to you, motorcycle riding Stealth Douche, I offer this as a token of my sincere regret (caution Erica: baaaad language in this!). May your Ed Hardy shirt shrink JUST enough and your well of Axe body spray never run dry: