Riding a crosstown bus this weekend, I was standing in the aisle and gripping the rail above. A well-dressed young man in a suit walked up adjacent and grabbed the rail as well. He was listening intently to his cell phone but not saying anything. Suddenly he jerked his head sharply backward, then pressed the phone back to his ear. I watched him obliquely for a moment, and his whole body jerk-thrashed even harder -- enough that I and everyone else nearby shrank away in apprehension. Then he was calm, still listening to his phone and otherwise appearing undistressed.
Another jerking motion, this a short open-handed jab with his phone arm, and then a little heel-toe kick. And then another full-body spasm. It looked like an ongoing seizure, but his face was wrong for a seizure victim ... he was clear-eyed and intent on his phone, and he looked more irritated than frightened or stressed. Right after another head-twist, he started barking into the phone, "Sir! Sir! ... Excuse me ... No ... No, sir, I can't wait! ... No, excuse me, I can't hold any longer! ... No, I've been on hold too long already! Sir ... ah ..." another long pause, punctuated by more spasms and more fuming, as he listened to the phone where he had obviously been placed back on hold.
What to do? Did he need some kind of emergency medication? Should we get the bus driver to stop, call this guy a cab to the hospital? Should I get ready to put my belt in his mouth to prevent him biting off his tongue? But then the person on the other end of the line came back. "Hello! Yes, finally! No, I can't hold. OK? Now? Good. Now, I want the sake special roll, and the crunchy salmon roll, and a side order of seaweed salad. And I want to pay with American Express." Then the man kicked his foot again, as if in furious triumph.
