I was waiting for my tennis partner at a west-end park last week, so I pulled out my phone to catch up on the newest news.

But a well-dressed 50-something man on the next bench said sternly: “Sorry, no phones in the park. Show some courtesy, please.”

“Huh,” I said with surprise, as nowadays that’s practically like asking someone not to breathe.

“No phones in the park,” he repeated. “It’s a park tradition. Phones are anti-social. Courtesy, please.”

Looking at his fixed gaze, I knew I had two choices: walk away to use my phone elsewhere, or engage with him.

So I engaged, saying: “You know, I’ve sat here for years beside dozens of people and no one’s ever mentioned that, uh, park ‘tradition.’ You must be an unusual person.”

“Indeed, I am,” he said.

Then we had an engaging 15-minute chat about phones, courtesy, tennis and life.

Our conversation proved his point, because we wound up being more social than if I’d stuck to my phone.

But the fact his initial demand startled me shows how far we’ve come in our addiction to the tiny know-it-alls in our pockets.

Just 10 years ago, I would tell our son how rude it was to look at a phone when others were talking. But now that’s just how most people act, typing while talking to you and murmuring: “Sorry. I’m just texting back my grandson” (or accountant or masseur or........

© Montreal Gazette