One morning last October, as Mark Perlman commuted on Metra
to Chicago's Northwestern Station from Highland Park, he used
his cell phone to make a few calls -- business and personal.
After one conversation, a fellow passenger politely told Mr.
Perlman that he had been speaking so loudly that the passenger
couldn't concentrate on his own reading.
"I thought I had
carte blanche to use it. I guess I was just too self-preoccupied
to realize what a disturbance cell phones can be in tight
quarters," Mr. Perlman says.
Since then, when
he needs to call a client of Weiser Group, the Loop marketing
firm where he is senior director, he heads to a passageway
between two train cars. Otherwise, he turns the phone off
during his commute. "He was pretty nice about it," Mr. Perlman
says of the man who pointed out the volume problem. "I've
noticed people being a lot ruder."
As the cellular
phone market grows, so does antagonism against cell phone
squawking. The problem is expected to worsen as use becomes
more pervasive. Boston-based research firm Yankee Group estimates
that by 2005, 41% of all phone conversation minutes will be
wireless, compared with 7% in 2000.
The discord is
creating a new group of outcasts: Like smokers huddled outside
for a quick drag, some cell phone users are sneaking in a
quick call before entering a no-cell zone. And if history
is any indicator, local businesses are likely to become less
friendly to those with dialing digits.
"It (will be) just
like the anti-smoking laws. At first, people protested those,
but here we are, and they are just part of life in certain
areas," says Sue Fox, author of "Business Etiquette for Dummies."
Cell phone restrictions
will come more swiftly -- and with less opposition --
than anti-smoking laws, because they are being introduced
at the beginning of the product's life cycle rather than after
decades of use, as was the case with cigarettes, says Sue
O'Curry, chair of the department of marketing at the Charles
H. Kellstadt Graduate School of Business at DePaul University
in Chicago.
In fact, many cell
phone toters already report belligerent run-ins. Lawrence
Steinert, founder of Chicago-based 4 MFG Inc., a business-to-business
Web site, was at the park with his daughter when he "had to
take a call to keep a transaction from falling apart," he
says.
While he was talking,
another parent commented on "rude and uncaring parents who
do not value time with their children." She continued complaining
throughout his call. Afterward, Mr. Steinert told her that
if he had not taken the five-minute call, he would not have
been able to see his daughter at all that day.
The issue goes
beyond etiquette. For many area businesses, patrons' inappropriate
use of cell phones can affect the bottom line. If they have
a reputation for being lax about cell phone use, they can
lose customers.
At a posh restaurant,
Ellen Grossman, manager of Ancient Echoes retail gift shop
on Armitage Avenue, asked her server to do something about
a man at the next table who had been talking on his cell phone
and pacing throughout her two-hour meal. The server responded
by throwing up his hands, causing her to be frustrated with
the restaurant as well as her fellow diner.
But if a business
is too rigid, it may lose cell phone users as customers.
Nevertheless, Bruce
Sherman, executive chef at North Pond Cafe in Lincoln Park,
is pondering instituting a formal cell phone policy.
"We certainly would
prefer that people use common sense, because it is a sticky
situation," he says. "It would be awkward approaching a table
and asking a diner to turn his or her cell phone off. But,
from a chef's standpoint, if someone is on a cell phone for
five or 10 minutes, that can affect the flow of the kitchen."
In most upscale
restaurants, a chef won't send an entree to a table if the
diners are in the rest-room, still eating their appetizers
or chatting on the phone. So those dishes sit in the kitchen.
If too many plates
pile up, it can cause chaos for the kitchen staff, waste food
and lower tips for the wait staff, who must choose between
serving cold food or waiting for a meal to be reheated.
In theory, such
waits mean each party spends more time at the table. For restaurateurs,
who depend on frequent "table turns" to generate more orders
and income, a patron's leisurely chat could mean less in the
till that night.
Mr. Sherman isn't
sure how best to limit or prohibit cell phone use at the table.
"I'm thinking about a discreet sign that says, 'Please refrain
from use of cell phones,' " he says.
Other types of
businesses are equally torn. For years, many hospitals have
been cell phone-free, because the phones' frequencies were
thought to interfere with medical equipment.
But Rochester,
Minn.-based Mayo Clinic issued a study in January that found
that while "cellular telephones interfered with the operation
of external devices, the interference was not sufficient to
meaningfully hinder interpretation of data," and called for
more studies.
In response, Northwestern
Memorial Hospital, which had no official policy, is thinking
about establishing one.
Illinois Masonic
Medical Center and Ravenswood Hospital Medical Center prohibit
cell phones but are considering loosening their policies,
partly because they're hard to enforce.
At Chicago's Symphony
Center, the policy prohibiting use of pagers and cell phones
is printed on programs. So far, the venue does not make announcements
before performances, but it may consider doing so if enough
patrons "forget" to leave their beepers and phones with the
house manager.
Even signage doesn't
always work. Just ask Ancient Echoes' Ms. Grossman. After
the transmitters in some cell phones triggered the store's
security alarm, which is linked to the local police station,
Ms. Grossman posted a sign asking customers to turn their
phones off while inside. The store is fined $50 to $100 for
every false alarm after the first five per calendar year.
"The sign did not
deter people. It was a joke," she says. "More people used
their phones when the sign was up than when it wasn't."
Ms. Grossman took
the sign down after six months.
Salon 1800, a day
spa and hair salon in Lincoln Park, allows cell phones in
the beauty shop, but the devices are forbidden in the massage
area. Assistant Manager Lisa Velen has considered adding a
line on the list of services.
For now, she directs
customers who are agitated by cell chatter to make appointments
when business women are less likely to be using the manicurist's
table as their not-so-private office.
Donald Madia, owner
of Blackbird restaurant on Randolph Street, found a compromise.
At dinner, he prohibits use of cell phones. The request is
printed at the bottom of the menus, and diners are told as
they are seated they can use the house phone even for long-distance
calls.
But with his downtown
location, Mr. Madia knew he couldn't ban the cellular onslaught
at lunch, or he'd lose the business crowd. Cell phones are
allowed for two and a half hours at lunchtime.
"There are people
who thank us for our (no-phones-at-dinner) policy," he says.
"But it tends to be people who are really foodies. (Others)
look at me like, 'What's the problem? It's the 2000s.' "
copyright
2001 by Crain Communications Inc.
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