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What Boils My Egg

There is nothing more sacred to me than my personal space. I believe that played a factor (albeit a small one) in my decision to attend a smaller liberal arts college. When it comes to writing, or reading, or even going out for a walk to clear the mind, I cannot stress enough the importance of having an uninterrupted moment to myself. Now that I am currently living in a small city, I am given a daily reminder of that which I so despise…

You know what really boils my egg?

People having loud cell phone conversations in public places. Those droning voices, forcing their personal lives upon everyone within a ten-foot radius, do not seem to understand the impact they have on those around them. They only seem to remember that there are other people around when I am forced to physically impact them with my right shoulder, like a professional linebacker.

I am aware that there are certain conversations that should absolutely occur over the phone, like emergency updates or complaining about the neighbor’s dog’s incessant barking. But some dialogues are meant for home-use only. We do not need to hear how Person A “completely dissed” Person B, nor does the public strive for the information of how Person C is a “total liar.” These people need to be introduced to a phone booth, pronto.

This is especially aggravating when attempting to buy groceries. Imagine reaching for the cheapest jar of pasta sauce a college student can find, when suddenly you are flanked by a woman loudly reading ingredients over her iPhone and a man conducting a business meeting on his Bluetooth. The knee-jerk reaction would be to unleash a chaos that would blow the roof off of the building. Instead, you grab the sauce and vacate the aisle immediately, barely maintaining composure. How long will the patience last?

My patience fell to pieces when these same ignoramuses decide to take their calls in the direct path I was attempting to walk. These are the same people who give disgruntled looks at me for wanting to get by, as if I am an inconvenience to their existence. I just hope that they can accept my apology when I “accidentally” knock their phones free from their hands. At least then they will finally be forced to acknowledge their immediate surroundings.

Consider this egg: boiled.

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