Workspace Caste; the power of Ringtones

Normally I don't work in an actual office, much less have any form of office space, but as of now I am in an actual office and amongst tribal colonies of office spacers.  On any given day, just sit and stare at the people who pass by my doorway.  You will notice that attached to the hip is their phone; be it Droid or iPhone.  Slowly we are set into groups of the cool, nerd and many other caste levels.  What gives me swagger? My attitude? My car, perhaps? I have a bodacious wife? Well all those things might impress someone, but around here power is played in the form of the call of the ringtone! I hear college marching bands airing the brass and percussion of fight songs of their alma mater from those tiny speakers; Ludacris or some R&B/Rap/collaboration-feature-guest mix-remix/singer's hit single ("someone call 911 shawty's fire burnin' on the dance floor"... yeah, ok...) or is it the cheesy lines from movies of yesteryear... the lowest of the caste are the ones who cannot add to their phone and just rely on the mundane "standard" phone ring.  I make my power play to challenge the alpha phone... walking into the den of the hungry, facing the one with the coolest attention grabber that the phone is ringing... here it goes.. a ring of short notes echoes from my phone... eyes first move then the head and neck follow in unison toward my location.  Pause. Everyone gasping for oxygen to replenish the depleted brain cells that conduct cranial business in the recesses of memory function... there it is.. the master of the tone... could it be? yes, sir... my ring tone is the arcade music from Galaga.
When I throw down, ya'll, I knock ya way back to the '80s!