"Damned Commercials!"
Around a year and a half ago I was at the DMV renewing my license. Long line out the door, snakey doubled-up line inside, you know how it goes. After perhaps 40 minutes or so I'm finally in the home stretch, in that final snake line bend, when a full volume phone is heard blasting... the hardest of porn? We're talking r*** levels of male-on-female dominance here. Heads including my own slowly turn to the source in the neighboring section of snakey line. A potato-shaped fellow about 75-80ish or so looking bored as one does in a DMV, his phone max volume emanating some seriously nasty stuff from his pants pocket.
He looks ahead oblivious. The entire nearby line stares. He doesn't react. Perhaps he's hard of hearing? No one says a thing, because, well, what do you say? "Hey bud, your freaky nasty porn is blaring, do you mind turning it off?" He continues to seem unaware. This goes on, no exaggeration, for 3-4 minutes straight. 3-4 minutes of full blast depravity. Then, finally, he notices. With no ounce of shame and with all the casualness of someone who accidentally sat on the TV remote, he mutes his phone and loudly declares:
"Damned commercials!"
And that's it. He goes back to looking bored in line at the DMV, like he just muted a spam call. The fellow linewaiters and I look at each other incredulously, not willing to bring up the topic. Did that just happen? Was this a shared psychosis of a dream?
I dunno, man. It happened, and it's now forever burned in my brain.