Throwin' 'bos

There are basically two types of temp jobs. One is where they have some unreasonable task for you to do, usually in the form of too much simple work and occasionally in the form of one ill-advised task. The other type of job is where there somebody in an office is missing and they need a warm body to fill their space. Often in this type of job the rest of the office is covering for any work that requires actual knowledge, so the temp is left with little-to-nothing to do. Today is the quintessential example of the latter type. I guess it is worth $10.45/hour to them to make sure that there is sufficient weight occupying this chair. (Could my job be done by a stack of phonebooks? It might be rude to phonebooks to ask.) The day is half over and the phone has rung three times, twice for me (the temp agency) and once someone who just wanted to leave a message, and instead of leaving a voicemail she had to wait while I wrote it down. This type of job is exactly why temping is great for about six months, and exactly why it's mind-numbingly awful after a year. But dude's got to get paid, yo.

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Thoughts and Story from Later in the day: I am working today at University Hospitals department of Nephrology and Clinical Hypertension. This is a hospital, people, show some respect. I understand that this idea flies in the old faces of old people who think that since they are old (and, exacerbatingly, sick) they can and should do whatever they want. I understand the sentiment, because when I am old I hope that I will be respected, even if I am acting strangely. However, I also hope that people do not think that the obligation to respect me is in conflict with general politeness and safety for others.

There are signs everywhere. Small and plastic, the signs say

"Cell Phones
Are not to be Turned on
in This Building"

(sic)

As this is a research/testing part of the hospital, I assume the restriction on powered cell phones is to avoid disturbance of delicate instruments that keep people healthy. That's what hospitals are for, to house those devices and the people who know how to operate them.

There was an elderly woman shuffling by in the way elderly people do. She looked like a patient who had visited the hospital's devices and people, and was now leaving. From the very large bag slung over her shoulder issued a very loud series of beeps. I heard the beeps and knew that they were supposed to paraphrase the famous Hallelujah Chorus. The only people who would program those beeps are cell phone people, and the only thing that would produce them would be a cell phone. She was within sight of two, possibly three signs that said

"Cell Phones
Are not to be Turned on
in This Building"

My first reaction, and the catalyst for this exploration, was that I wanted to pick up the sign on the counter next to me and throw it at her. The phone kept beeping, and she kept shuffling, and I kept watching and wanting. Those verbs all kept happening, but the phone stopped first, of it's own accord.

When I am old I will consciously try to be more polite than my cell phone or other period-relevant technology. If a young person throws a sign at me, I will accept a copy of this text as explanation. Perhaps you should bookmark it, just in case.