I sank into my seat. Battered in ways. Bettered in others. How selfish am I to benefit from a man’s loss? How selfish would I be not to?
Moments earlier I was sitting forward in my seat when I caught a glimpse of the man’s phone. Normally I would look away. I didn’t. I was drawn to the phone. And I kept my eyes on it.
My wife and I were on a tarmac in Phoenix, AZ getting ready to fly through the sky. Instead of looking out the window or talking to my wife, I covertly watched the man’s every keystroke. Glued to the drama.
Only three weeks earlier I had written a 7,000-word mega article about phone addiction. I wanted to see what this man was doing on his phone that was so damn important that he couldn’t engage in the life around him. Why was this man letting his life pass him by?
The irony of my behavior was lost on me.
I was on my high horse. I was judging the man. I looked in the man’s direction and thought, without question, “I’m better than you.”
I was better than him because I didn’t need to use my phone as a crutch. He did. I felt bad for him.
And the truth is, no matter who “you” is, I’m better than you.
I’m better than you because I make more money. I’m better than you because I’m more unique. I’m better than you because I’m smarter. I’m better than you because I’m a stronger athlete. I’m better than you because I eat healthier.
If you happen to make more money or are smarter? I’ll find something. And that will be the important thing. And I’ll be be better than you.
When the man finished his typing, his phone read:
Tom D: “Would you be able to get a round in at 11?”
Man: “Hey Tom. Sad news. My father passed and I’ve been in Phoenix all week. Just on my way back now. Catch up soon.”
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It’s time to reevaluate some things.
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