Bluetooth

bluetooth (bloo'· tooth) n. 1. Personal communication device, designed to confuse and annoy all men, women, children and pets who happen to be in the vicinity of the user - in other words… everyone.

My wife and I had just been seated at our favorite restaurant when the man dining alone in the booth across from us started talking:

Man in Booth - Hey, how’s it going?
Me - Good! How ‘bout yourself?

He gave me a strange look and continued:

Man in Booth -What are you doing this weekend?
Me - Oh, not too much.

He gave me that look again, this time sliding toward the farther side of his booth.

Man in Booth - I’ve got an extra ticket for the Buckeye game … you want to go?
Me shouting - WOW! REALLY? THAT WOULD BE GREAT!

This seemed to startle my new friend, and his head snapped around in response to my outburst. I was expecting to receive another one of his looks - instead, the sudden motion caused something to fall from his head and plop into the bowl of chowder in front of him.

Without hesitation he splashed a hand into the steaming soup.

I was voicing concern to my wife over the practicality, not to mention the sanitation, of this obviously European custom, when she interrupted to tell me about something called a Bluetooth.

Her explanation was cut short as the bizarre scene continued to develop before us.

You see, when the fellow dipped a hand into the hot chowder, he let out a curse of pain - and though he managed to retrieve his prize, it immediately dropped to the floor.

As he plunged the fingers of his broth-coated hand in a glass of ice-water, he reached with his good hand to search the floor under the table. A look of relief came across his face when he seemed to have found the lost treasure.

By now, everyone in the restaurant was watching as our odd dining companion sat up with casual confidence… and stuck a baby-carrot in his ear.

Just then, another patron passed between our tables, and the look on my pal’s face quickly changed from relief to despair as a sharp crunch sounded from under the foot of the passerby. My distraught neighbor, still sporting the carrot, lunged over in a useless attempt to save his now demolished ear-gear.

He picked up the dangling strand of broken circuitry, plastic, and wires and we all watched as he grasped what looked like a fancy fishing lure, and tried to reaffix it to his ear.

Other diners seemed to get a little nervous at this point. I noticed a number of them cautiously eyeing me as they fiddled with their own gadgets, each checking and rechecking to make sure that everything was secure - as if I intended to startle them into dropping their device into a scalding liquid.

Things finally settled down and, still not fully understanding all that had transpired I leaned toward my fellow diner and inquired, “You were saying something about a ticket to the Buckeye game?”

Without a word he shot me another one of those looks.

It became clear to me then - I would be watching the Buckeye's from my usual seat… at home.