Thanks for Nothing, Laguna Beach: Part 1
I was already agitated, I must admit. Agitated because I think the use of cell phones with more than three buttons should banned for anyone 17 and under. One button can call home, one can call 911, and one can call an emergency contact. That’s it. But here I am, standing in line behind two girls at Red Box who can’t be older than sixteen; one girl repeatedly perusing the movie selections as if there weren’t 10 people crowded into a line behind her, and the other sending two-handed text messages back and forth with her freshly manicured fake nails on her obviously expensive, shiny sidekick cell phone.
This really drives me nuts. In addition to minors being restricted to three-button cell phones, anyone over the age of 17 acting like their phone is their most important asset usually needs to get a life. The only people who should be glued to their cell phones and paying for gigantic text and email message bundles every month are business people or individuals in a management position who actually need to be reached. If in a personal encounter with me you may murmur, “hypocrite,” it would be inaccurate. I had no interest in a cell phone until I was eighteen and even then it didn’t become an important part of my life until my business took off and I began to merge into the world of coordination, deadlines, and damage control. Talk to anyone in this industry and you’ll quickly find the cell phone a necessity. At a meeting the other day someone confessed, “If I don’t answer an email or phone call in like, ten minutes, my assistant starts getting emails and phone calls asking where I am or what happened to me.”
Busy, I am. However, I do what I can to avoid that stalked-via-cell-phone fate. But young girls these days use it as a status symbol; a popularity contest. Being “in demand” is being important. There’s nothing more status implying than a constantly ringing, glimmering, new sidekick. But it’s such fabricated, shallow importance. I’d be impressed if a third of these girls even paid for their own four hundred dollar phone … or fake nails. Instead they talk about “so and so” and “what to do Friday.” And I just wonder: What makes these girls think a façade is the most important part of life?
Precocious entrepreneur, workaholic and a rabid perfectionist Crystal Starlight knows a thing or two about getting ahead at a young age. Email her at [email protected]