I’m standing in line at the grocery store behind a woman talking away on her cell phone.

She’s on the phone as she gets in line, as she puts her groceries on the conveyor belt, and as the young boy rings up her order. She’s talking on the phone when he tells her the total and when she gestures to him to check the price of an item. She’s on her cell phone as she rummages in her wallet to find her cash and as she heads out of the store with her cart full of groceries.

“Do people do that often?” I ask the cashier when it’s my turn. “Talk on their cell phone while you’re waiting on them, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes. “All the time. It’s so annoying.”

“You’d think they could put the phone down when it’s their turn. It’s really rude, isn’t it?”

The man behind me chimes in. “There’s a phrase those people need to learn. It’s called, ‘Hold on a minute.’”

The cashier shakes his head. “It makes waiting on them really hard. But if I say anything, I’ll get in trouble.”

“It seems like we would know enough to be a little more courteous to each other,” I muse.

Why do we feel we need to be available to everyone at all times? Sure, cell phones are convenient. Who hasn’t been stranded and used the cell phone to call home for help, or called home from the store to see if you needed milk? And sometimes we need to be available for important calls we didn’t know we were going to get. We were out to dinner for our daughter’s 21st birthday and she got a call on her cell phone from her friend Holly, who lives in Mongolia with her missionary parents. We gladly let her talk at the table, knowing the call would be very short and that at any moment she could lose the connection.

But do we really need to be engaging in loud, public phone conversations about bowel movements, business deals and relationship woes? Can’t we excuse ourselves and find a quiet place to carry on a long-winded, intimate conversation? Can’t Aunt Tilly in Tacoma wait five minutes while the cashier rings up our groceries?

We’re so busy talking to the rest of the world that we’re distracted, detached and ignoring the needs of people right in front of us.

As I push my cart out of the store I see the woman tossing her bags into her SUV, still talking nonstop on her cell phone. When she finishes, she pushes her cart into the empty spot next to her vehicle and starts to get into her car. The man who had been behind us is now on his way out of the store and stops her to point out the groceries she’s forgotten on the bottom rack of her grocery cart. Barely acknowledging him, and still talking on her cell phone, she grabs the items and gets in the car.

As he passes, he gives me a wry smile and says, “She isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what she’s doing. And did you see where she left her cart? Right in the middle of the handicapped spot.”

I see, and I’d tell her how rude it is. Except that I don’t know her phone number.

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