It's a familiar scene: In the post-class hubbub of everyone getting up and putting their bags together and streaming toward the door, the cell phones emerge from the cool shelter of pockets and purses and migrate upward until they are inches away from a face. Eyes begin intently searching the glowing screen for the vital information they had been craving for 50 minutes.
Recently, I myself emerged from Phone World, much as the groundhog does in spring, blinking blearily in the sunlight and vaguely confused by its surroundings. I walked nearly the entire way to my next class watching my peers.
It astonished me. Not only did I learn that we had an Amphitheater, but also that nearly every person to pass me was looking at his or her phone, completely blocking out the world. Those who weren't were holding their phones and glancing at them every few seconds to check for a response. I even saw two girls pass each other, catch eyes in their peripherals, and hold a conversation at the shouting level as they proceeded to walk in opposite directions, each bowed over their cells. Of course, I am as much a citizen of Phone World as the next person, but it still startled me.
The impact that phones have on basic body functions is immediately obvious to an outsider, though no one within Phone World would notice. Feet shuffle along, following the crowd, but most of the energy in the body is going toward the fingers and eyes. The result is that the person is trailing after the crowd, not walking in a straight line, buffeted by the flow of people around them.
No doubt you have experienced this yourself, probably from both angles. You surface from your texts, look up, and find that the friends you were talking to mere moments before have deserted you. Or, conversely, you were carrying on a spirited debate with a friend and turn to listen to his rebuttal, only to find that he is drifting along at a snail's pace yards behind.
My personal favorite is when you, an innocent bystander, are hit by a girl with her phone pressed up against her nose. As the phone lowers and her furious eyes meet yours, she mutters "Watch where you're going!" She then hastily retreats back into Phone World and trundles away, no doubt texting something nasty about the jerk who just rudely bowled into her.
I couldn't help but wondering, as I watched classmate after classmate pass by with a glazed look of thoughtless bliss reflected on their phone screens, what an alien species would think if they came to Earth.
I imagine them landing in their spaceships, lights flashing and sirens wailing, descending onto the surface with a general "Look, we're here!" sort of obnoxiousness. They would stand expectantly, waiting for people to scream and run, or try to fight them, or do anything, really, at all. Instead, they watch as people walk by without glancing at them, without showing any indication of noticing the whole spectacle. One loner may glance at them, then dive into his pocket to send out a mass, "LOL, what r those things?" text, before going on his merry way.
I imagine them waiting for hours, trying to scare people and instigate a battle, but instead, they are met with down-turned faces and the occasional, "Watch where you're going!" squeal. After a few hours, the aliens will regroup, shaking their heads mournfully, and the commander would say, "Men, we're going back home. There's no conquering this planet. It's already happened. We can't possibly hope to beat these machines." They would then return to their spaceships and fly off home, to spread the news of these brainwashed beings on Earth. Anyway, I would continue my narrative, but I just got a text, and I really need to check my email, and I wanted to talk to my friend about what she's doing tonight, and that's like, a lot more important than anything else I could be doing right now. BRB, TTYL.
Emily's column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at e.churchill@cavalierdaily.com.
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