OPINION - I love using my phone at the table — it would be rude not to
I was five glasses deep into the new Beaujolais in The Royal Oak pub on Columbia Road in Shoreditch when I lost the game. It was 2014 and I reached for my phone stacked on top of the others, jenga’d precariously in the middle of the table. “You lost!” my friend Tim said, with a wine-wide Cheshire Cat grin. “It’s your round.” The phone game had claimed its first victim of the night and that victim was me — entirely unfairly, too, for someone who has the attention span of a mite and the forgetfulness of one, too.