I’m traveling right now, and so I am acutely aware of a particularly heinous (all rights for the phrase “particularly heinous” belong to NBC; used with permission) crime that is perpetrated in airports, planes, and free wi-fi hotspots. It is a nasty crime, leaving its victims feeling dirty, violated and vulnerable. The psychology of the perpetrators is so twisted that they repeat and repeat again, with no apparent saturation point to their recidivistic ritual.
I’m talking about the crime of craning.
Why is it I can’t sit and work or read blogs or watch a movie or send a freaking email without some bozo (usually a bored preppy business dude, but you can’t profile these craners, they come in all types) craning his damn starchy neck to try to catch a hit of my smoking computer screen. Craners are peepies of the worst order, because they don’t even know what they are after. They are compelled to indiscriminately peep.
Who the hell raised these people? Did their mothers march them around the block and teach them how to look into windows to try to catch a pubescent glimpse of the money shot, or of a family devouring a hot, cheesy pizza? Did their mothers withhold their own dinners until they guessed what was in the microwave, so they learned how to peek in the microwave window when she wasn’t looking? Microwaves are the gateway screens, perhaps.
Seriously, what ugly things happened to them that they would be compelled to crane incessantly to peep, even though they are in public and very obvious at their craning. I can tell it’s not yoga, dude who is right now looking at this screen. Yes, you. No, don’t try to cover it up with a stretch. YOU ARE A CRANING PEEPIE. BE ASHAMED.