The Blackberry Bump

I have to say, THREE people e-mailed me today to ask whether I'm ever planning on blogging again. If I'd thought any of you were still looking for a blog entry, I would probably...well, I wouldn't have written anything, but I would have been wracked with guilt over not writing. But thank you for the support--I'll try to do better.

I recently found myself on a plane from Phoenix to Philadelphia, and on the plane I met the last charming CFO in America. No, honestly. He was witty, genuinely interested in people as human beings (I wasn't aware that you could do this as a CFO--I kind of thought they had to remove this functionality to get the CFO program to run), a devoted husband, a proud father, and just an all-around great guy. He reminded me immediately of one of the best bosses I've ever had. I had resumes in my briefcase (bad habit), and I have to tell you, I was hard-pressed not to hand him one. Should you have a hankering to work in real estate in the Philadelphia area, you should work for his company immediately.

This rare character alerted me to a cultural phenomenon that had escaped my notice. His patented name for it is the "Blackberry Bump," and it occurs when two people who are unsuccessfully multitastking on their Blackberries collide. He claimed it was the hot new workplace compensation claim, and you know, he may be onto something. Counting Blackberry Bumps is now my favorite airport pastime (I counted three just at my gate on the way back--although I did cut myself some slack and count it even if only one of the portable electronic devices concerned was an actual Blackberry). Apparently it's rife in the Real Estate community.

Anyway, Dan, if you're out there, that was the best plane flight ever. I got:

• a great conversation
  

• a new pastime (highway alphabet was getting dull)


• my faith in humanity

That's a pretty smokin' gift with purchase--way better than frequent flier miles. Thanks again!

Walking for Beginners

Is there some kind of mall time warp that I don't know about? Because it seems to me that people walk slower in malls. It also seems like if you go into a mall, your IQ drops precipitously in inverse proportion to your age. Here, for the beginner, are some remedial instructions on walking at the mall.

If there are two or more people in your party, you should arrange yourselves in such a way that others who don't want to walk at the incredibly slow and stupid pace you set can get around you. Do not link arms and walk in a big line, trapping people behind you (unless you're actually staging a protest). Two people can walk abreast. Three if they're skinny and gossiping close together. Any more than that, and you need to move in a compact clump, or I won't be responsible for your welfare.

If you are walking with someone and you know him or her, there is absolutely no need for you to take more than eighteen inches of personal space between you when you're walking. When the government gave that whole "three feet apart" guideline, they meant at work during a flu pandemic, not at the mall with someone you brought with you. Eighteen inches is the max. Twelve would be better. You came here to spend time together. Get to it. Alternatively, walk far enough apart that people may, without social or physical discomfort, pass between you.

If you need to stop, for God's sake, pull over. Do not execute an emergency stop in a space where others are walking. Ever. Not even if the emergency is a really cute shirt.

If you must perform some other activity while walking, such as eating, talking on a cell phone, or chewing gum, you are obligated to arm everyone else in the area with a regulation, executive-retreat caliber paint gun, so that we can take you down if you get in the way. If you're a vegetarian, you can arm us all with tranquilizer darts instead.

If you are so stupid that walking into a mall drops your IQ below zero, you should wear identification, visible from at least 5 yards away. Acceptable stupidity identification might be a really large pointy hat, or a sign that says "I'm with stupid" but points to yourself. Or one of those purses that's entirely covered in reflective gold sequins the size of a quarter. (These are especially recommended for night stupidity.)

Random zig-zaggy movements are not appreciated. Unless you're trying to elude sniper fire (perhaps because someone got tired of you text messaging while walking), zig-zagging is just forbidden.

If there's a girl fight, you should tell me. Because those look like a way better spectator sport than tennis, and I'd like to check it out.