Until yesterday I was convinced everyone who owns, or uses a bluetooth headset is a giant assface.
Don’t give me your safe driving bullshit. If I can talk on the phone, eat a grilled cheese sandwich, keep a pug away from said sandwich while driving, then you can use a phone. If you can’t, please pull your car over.
Yes, I’m serious.
But wait, remember the “until yesterday” part? Yeah.
Last night, my niece, Hannah called me from her dad’s douchetooth. Usually I hang up on people using them, but you can’t do that to a five-year-old.
When Hannah and I talk on the phone it’s usually a two minute conversation, but with the douchetooth she talked for twenty minutes. I know everything there is to know about her life. I know that hot dogs don’t come with pink glitter sauce, her brother doesn’t have any girlfriends, that her bedroom walls just got painted green and that she loves me to the moon and back. Pretty much it was the best conversation I’ve ever had on the phone. And that makes me incredibly happy.
Well, except the part about the pink glitter sauce. That I gotta fix ASAP.