On the edge of Tiananmen Square one morning, two women played with the telephone.
They were in the telephone-box together, so at first I assumed that they knew each other. One of the women tried to dial, while the other one repeatedly cut her off. The coin dropped out and the process was repeated.
Then the shouting started, the caller had had enough and started to pull the other one's hair. The other one tried to scratch and kick the caller in return. She missed and her foot smashed the glass.
A crowd gathered and stared. No-one tried to intervene.
The caller attacked again and bit the other girl, who backed out of the glass-shattered aluminium frame and showed the crowd her wound.
The caller rode off on her bicycle, smug in her victory; but she had failed to place her call.