Scrollers of the World, Hear Me!!!


In this technological age it is so easy to let etiquette drop. With short-hand text speak, “thank yous” and “please” and “Would you like to go out?” have turned into the bastardized “K thx” “Plz” and “DTF?”. Everything we do is about speed and ease. Many would assume that this has signaled the end of etiquette, and in many ways it has, but I am here to tell you that etiquette does still exist! It has simply evolved in a way which some of you, obviously, have not quite grasped. I’m talking to you, cell phone scrollers.

What, you don’t know what a “scroller” is? That’s cool. I am one hundred percent willing to explain what a “scroller” is to you. (Which, from here on out, will not be highlighted by quotations as I am far too lazy for that).

If, mid description, you go “oh yeah, I fucking hate that” then this call for action, or rather call for removal of action, may not necessarily apply to you. If you read this description and find yourself feeling defensive, then buckle up buttercup because you have utterly failed in the realm of cell phone etiquette.

A scroller is as such: A person whom, typically speaking, you absolutely do not want, ever, at all, in any way, to have full free-roaming access to the depths of your technological devices, is in possession of your cell phone to look at one specific thing. One. Fucking. Thing. And instead, they look at more than that one thing.  This happens under multiple circumstances, each involving varying levels of cell phone etiquette fuckery, which I will break down for you.

Because I’m generous like that.

Level 1 fuckery: in which it might not be entirely be your fault. The ALMIGHTY OWNER of said cell phone willingly hands it off to you to show you, inevitably, a photo of a child or pet which is, on the whole, far less amusing to you than them. At some point during your riveting and entirely convincing performance of “Oh isn’t he/she/it/ that cute” You tap the screen and shit goes down. Here is where you error. Here is where you always fucking error. Instead of immediately handing the cell phone back to the ALMIGHTY OWNER, you try to fix it yourself. Fucking stop that. If/when you start opening shit which was not intentionally opened for you, by the GODS, avert your eyes and hand that fucking phone back! Hand it back! No, it’s not embarrassing that you don’t know how to get back to the original photo. No, it’s not awkward that you’re handing it back on a different screen than it began on. You know what is embarrassing? You now know exactly  how active my sexting life is.

Level 2 fuckery: In which you are not the only guilty party. In which there is a second obliterator of cell phone etiquette, which I shall call the hander-offer. Yes, it’s awful. But unless you have a better title you can bite it.  In this scenario, the ALMIGHTY OWNER of the phone has handed their device to a specific person for a specific reason, who deftly hands it off to an unapproved recipient of cell phone content, who inevitably reenacts level 1, or if they’re a special bitch, level 3 fuckery, to everyone’s unending humiliation.

Level 3 fuckery: In which, yeah, this is your  fucking fault. Now look here you fucking doucheface. If I hand you a photo of my boring ass dog, I want you to see a photo of my boring ass dog, insist she’s cuter than we both know she is, and FUCKING HAND IT BACK. Why the ever loving fucketty fuck are you intentionally scrolling back through my photo albums? WTF ARE YOU DOING? You’ve scrolled so far back I, the owner of the fucking phone, cannot predict what you’re going to see! Tits? So many. Dicks? At least one. A photo montage of a night full of drunk jenga and tequila shots? thank god for those little stickers I edited on there.

Seriously, look at it this way, pre-cell phones what did a person hand you, in order for you to see a photo of their boring ass family? Their wallet. With totes adorbs little photos inside. And what did you do after you looked at those photos? YOU HANDED THE WALLET BACK. You did not go through the whole fucking thing without permission. You did not hand it over to some random third party. You know why? Because that shit was private! There were probably  condoms in there, nudie photos folded and tucked in sleeves, grocery lists with KY Jelly on them, hit lists, I don’t fucking know! And that’s the point. Aside from what you’ve been handed, you’re not supposed to know.  Think of a cell phone the same way. What you are handed, is what you are invited to view. Otherwise, fuck right on off. After that, anything that happens is on you.

Sincerely, a chick who sexts her husband. Get over it.


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