I am furious (yellow)

Things I Don't Miss: Slate.com has a history of the phone book, a practically obsolete item that refuses to go away quietly. Even before the Internet, I hated them for the space they took up in my small apartments. I felt like a philistine putting the Yellow Pages next to real books on bookshelves (what would be next, counting Banana Republic catalogs as reading material?), so they ended up in kitchen cabinets or underneath couches, about as unobtrusive as bricks of plutonium. Plus, as someone named Sullivan, I hate anything that's organized alphabetically. (You're not getting my business, AAA Pizza!) The managers of my new apartment building simply put a little sign in the lobby telling tenants that the new phone books were there if they wanted them. I hope that they all ended up in the trash, but I'll bet that if four tenants out of 200 asked for them, that would be enough to guarantee another full shipment next year.