And not for the usual things like Candy Crunch or Farm Heroes. They were reading things on there, and sending messages that were longer than LOL <:-) or the pressing of a retweet.
I think, and I don't have proof mind, but I think they were doing work.
I did receive the odd work message myself you know. I'm not a complete loser. There was a query about how the course was going, and a... no that was it. A query about how the course was going. Not a lot of back and forth there, once you've banked the sarcasm you're done.
I'm afraid that I started to get a bit of phone envy. I do have a very nice phone. But as the old adage goes, it's not how big it is, it's what you do with it that counts. And I had done sadly little.
I did have a twitter contest going, but since that was only with myself and therefore could only ever have one winner or loser (winner! Yay!) it probably doesn't count. I'm thinking that other people are using their phones as a method of communication. In some way, shape or form. Not to the point that anyone would actually telephone - now you're just being retro stupid - but certainly in a this involves at least two or more people sort of way.
So I did what any right-thinking person would do. On the second break I pretended to have urgent business as well. Oh, I frowned at some of those emails from Asos, and I gave a little gasp 'Oh' in delight for the wonderful offers exhibited by Air New Zealand. And as for those luscious wee emails from NZSale, well.
In order to make my work look a little bit more genuine I furiously typed a copy of some of these emails and sent them to myself. At home of course. Not work. That would be stupid.
And then I messaged a few tweeps and favourite a few tweets, and put it back in my bag.
By which time everyone else was still fiddling with their phones. I did have a secret weapon though. My work phone. This is a pristine item indeed, kept only for the purpose of providing replacement battery parts to other identical phones within the office phone family, or to whip out in meetings in a kind of 'me-too' logic that you can see I easily fall prey to.
I pulled it out, unfastened the metal magnet tab, and pressed the teeny tiny little button that is nested exactly next to the join and fastening for the phone holder so that you have to try two to three times before you can actually depress it enough to turn it on.
I held my breath the first time. It's a bit of a gamble after all. I only check it once a week to see if it's still retaining a battery charge and that had been down to a half on Monday.
But to my relief the phone came into full blossom in front of me. It cracked me up how it asked me if I wanted to connect to wifi to download the latest updates. We had a giggle at how I forgot my password the first time and it decided to treat me like a stern schoolmistress. Then I was in, and there was a plethora of phone messages waiting for my assistance.
Copies of the bank statements that I don't need a copy of. Updates on problems that were happening with the computers at the office that I wasn't attending while I was on the course. An inquiry as to whether I could provide some information, which I found in the email trail I had already provided.
Glorious seconds were filled as I scrolled through this pointless list of pixelation.
And then the break was over and I put my second phone away with a sigh of relief. I'd held up my end.