I Didn't Know You Could Major in Douchebaggery

So today I begin my New York college career. I attended a transfer student advising and registration seminar at my new school today. Blah, blah, pretty boring. We went over how the credits get evaluated, how to register, where to find the bursar's office and the registration office, your advisor, how to officially declare your major, etc. All in all, the lecture portion was only about an hour and fifteen minutes. We arrive at room 246, which is a lecture hall with about 80 seats, get checked in, and assigned numbers that will determine how soon we get seen by an advisor. Once everyone gets settled in, there's about 60 students in this room. Our speaker dims the lights, turns on the power point and begins. "Ladies and Gentlemen, good morning and welcome! Do me a favor and turn off your cell phones, or put them on ring or vibrate. I get distracted easily and none of us want this to take any longer than necessary." At which point she pauses to allow those that hadn't already done so, to make all the racket that comes along with shutting down your phone. That done, she launches into her talk.

So of course, about half way through the seminar the cell phone belonging to the guy directly behind me begins to ring. Not your standard phone ring, but that lovely bass and electronica sound of house techno. Everyone in the vicinity bristles immediately, pursing lips and furrowing eyebrows. Myself included. And the speaker. A quick glance, and he seemed embarrassed, as he was quickly digging through his pocket to quiet his device, and the lecture continued. At which point he quietly ANSWERS HIS PHONE!!! "Hello, [and then words in a language I don't recognize]..." Everyone nearby turns around to glare at this blatantly rude person, in his blue popped collar and khakis, and yes, loafers too. Ordinarily, being a southern gentleman, I would let such an offense slide, saying later something along the lines of "Lawd, did ya see that uncultyahd gentleman ansah his phone earliah? How rude of him." But, my budding inner New Yorker was not about to let this event pass without comment. I turned to him, looked him right in the face and said, "Really? You're on your phone?" His conversation ceased immediately while his jaw dropped, and after the pause, quietly added "i gotta go" and hung up. Everyone else seemed satisfied with that and resumed their attentive poses.

Boy, did he ever give me the stank eye when he left.