On the subject of ringtones

People in my office keep their cellphones on vibrate, so only they are aware of their incoming calls. Then, out of the blue for everyone else, they'll randomly start talking. "Hey man, what's up?" If it's a bad connection or they don't know the caller, all you hear from within your neighbor's cubicle is him confusedly asking "Hello? Hello?"

I always keep my ringer on, no matter how rude or annoying it may be when it rings, because I need that lead-in before I use my voice. I need people to know I'm about to speak, and why. When I go up to my boss's desk I always jingle my keys on the way so she's already looking up when I get there.

I like to evaluate and judge people based on their ringtones. The editorial assistant who was here before Calvino had a jingling whir for a ringtone, like a cartoon sound-effect of electronic bees. I liked it, and so I liked her. The IT guy upstairs has a ringtone wherein an impatient voice shouts his name (Bob) and demands that he answer the phone. I'm annoyed by this ringtone and, consequently, by him too.

My ringtone is the ring of an early 20th century phone, the kind of phone where when you answer the operator has to "patch you through." The ring is simple, does only what it has to do, and betrays nothing about me except for a possible appreciation of retro-ness.