WESTPORT, CT — At a party for single adults held last week in this bucolic New England town, a man named Chip Aldrich was observed wearing his Bluetooth earpiece ceaselessly, demonstrating what some viewed as crass social etiquette, and what others viewed as evidence of his social superiority.
Dressed in casual slacks, a button-down shirt and loafers, the man’s Bluetooth earpiece was an inescapable vision on his somewhat balding head. Despite the conspicuous accessory, Aldrich was not observed to take a single call during the event.
Partygoers had mixed reactions to Aldrich’s ever-present appliance. “I think he must be a doctor or something,” said Tracy M., lowering her sunglasses to get a better look. “I’ll bet he drives a nice car.”
Sandy P. had a completely different reaction. “What an oaf,” she carped behind her hand to her friend. “Who could possibly call that would be more important than the person standing in front of him?”
It was decided that empirical evidence should be gathered to determine whether Aldrich was, indeed, important enough to wear the futuristic appurtenance throughout the party.
It was established that Aldrich had no affiliation with the Office of Homeland Security or the C.I.A., nor did he acknowledge any accountability for the deployment of nuclear, biological or chemical weapons. He was not on the National Organ Transplant Waiting List, nor was he a doctor (he had not even taken any pre-med classes in college). He did not have any immediate relatives who were ill (his parents are both well and living in Florida). He could not claim to be captain of an alien spaceship, nor did he have any connection with NASA or with the International Star Trek Fan Association.
Adrich did, however, have a teen-aged daughter who had just gotten her driver’s license, and he was a fully-licensed life insurance salesman. “I need to be available at any time for my daughter, and if something happens to one of my clients…” he raised an eyebrow ominously.
It was concluded from this evidence that Adrich was, in fact, important enough to wear the obtrusive headset throughout the party. And no-one else at the party offered any claim of being more important than Aldrich.
An argument was leveled that Aldrich could have been available for a call from his daughter or a client without keeping the Bluetooth device in his head throughout the evening. “Why doesn’t he just keep his cell phone in his pocket?” asked Sandy P. “On Manners Mode,” she added.
But Aldrich insisted that the device was necessary. “C’mon,” he said. “It looks cool and, after all, I am the most important person here. Besides, who cares what that bitch thinks anyway.”