Excuse me, but would you mind not texting when in company, please? It's very rude. Could you just lift your head and give me some eye contact for once?
I know it only takes a minute to text, but I'm sure you could ignore the phone for just a few minutes. Thank you. Now, as I was saying . . . BEEP, BEEP . . . Oh, hold on. I've got a text. Just give me a minute to text them back.
We have the heads down, eyes on the screen, thumbs working overtime as we occasionally glance up to see if we're about to walk into a lamp post. When we are not texting, we are checking the phone to see if any messages have come through. Keeping it in plain view. In modern formal table settings, the mobile is placed between the salad knife and soup spoon. At least it has alleviated the strain on married couples who long ago ran out of things to talk about. Instead of seeing them sitting in silence in a restaurant, staring into their drinks, they can each divert their crushing frustration through their phones, and it gives them at least one thing to talk about.
"Who's that you're texting?" "No one." "Yeah, me too."
The Irish text more than any other EU nationality. The Finns could possibly pip us when they finally invent the sauna-proof phone, but until then we lead the way. We now send an average of 91 texts a month to each other, which sounds ridiculously low and must include those in society who are unlikely to text: the elderly, babies and thumbless. Of those 91 texts, 24 clear up misunderstandings from previous texts; 22 involve telling the other half we're on the train home; 11 explain that the train is late; and six ask if they'll come and pick us up from the broken-down train. It's obvious that the mobile phone isn't an Irish invention, because you have to teach its predictive text how to swear.
The remainder must be taken up with texting radio and TV stations. Suddenly, listening to your favourite show is like being stuck on a bus beside someone with a rabid opinion on everything. Presenters spend more time trying to read out texted opinions than they do covering the topics. Not so long ago, Sky News asked its viewers if they thought they were being overcharged for their mobile phones and, without flinching, told us to "just text yes or no to the number on the screen". It was obviously some kind of idiot trap, to gauge not simply the numbers of viewers but also their IQs. It has even spread to The Late Late Show, where viewers' pithy thoughts regularly slide across the screen during the panel discussions. Complex debates are reduced to a random outburst no more than 120 characters long. I'M SCARED TO LEAVE THE HOUSE . . . CHARLES HAUGHEY IS A LIVING SAINT . . . WHAT TIME DOES JONATHAN ROSS START ON BBC 1?