Too funny to resist posting, this just happened to me:
Sitting in the lobby of my bank, a punk teenager twitching and writhing in his seat and a yuppie on his iPhone.
Teenager: (to self) …kick they asses… (to Yuppie). Mister? Mister? Mister!
Yuppie: (rolls his head around to give Teenager an annoyed glare)
Teenager: Can I use your phone?
Teenager: (whining) How come?
Yuppie: (petulantly) Cuz I don’t want to.
Teenager: But I’m loooost! (sees his friends out the window, addresses them through the glass). Hey! What you say?!?!
He runs out of the door, tugging up his pants.
Yuppie turns to me, eyes me as though I’m about to ask to borrow his phone. I shake my own iPhone, and give him one of my patented half-smiles as if to say, “Right?”
Kids these days.