Most of us have had an experience we’d rather not talk about that relates to social media. We’re guys, and we really don’t like to talk about our feelings. But this post isn’t about feelings as much as it is I can’t believe this happened.
A new, quite beautiful girlfriend notices I don’t have Facebook and, because she “lives on it,” I make one. A few days later, I post a beaming selfie that says, “Here I am.”
Soon, because the girlfriend likes to send Facebook messages, I develop the really annoying habit of checking my mobile, oh, every few minutes.
Because she is really cool. She’s funny. Humor is so sexy, right? And I think, Maybe she’s the one.
I don’t really give the whole “communicating through a social media site” a second thought. I’m sending private messages, after all. Her Facebook messages are steamy and I can’t get enough of them.
Who knew that I could be so controlled by, or even addicted, to technology? Because I’m not looking at naked or nearly naked pictures of her or anything. I’m getting trained like Pavlov’s dog to salivate at messages.
By Day 8, I notice something kind of strange. She has only three Facebook friends: me, her best buddy, and a sister. Naturally, her page is blocked from public viewers, so I think “Hey, I’m important.”
I hear what you’re saying: “You’re slow, dude.”
Well, I’m an optimist.
What Lies Beneath
That afternoon, a work friend stops by. I’m gripping my mobile, waiting for her text message, as he peers over my cubicle. He witnesses the look on my face as it arrives.
He asks, “Hey, my friend, what’s going on? Orgasmic bliss?” He laughs, then pauses.
I provide the short version of the story, but say that my new girlfriend loves to send salacious messages through F’book. I admit that she’s driving me to consider the formerly unthinkable.
I show him her photo on Facebook, and he gives an approving nod. I explain how we met through a new dating site. We’ve gone out twice in the past week, but I think about her all the time.
My buddy shakes his head. “I’m guessing she Facebooked you.” He Googles her name and “Facebook” and I see his face turn almost white.
“Her name is pretty unusual, isn’t it?” he asks. I whisper “yes” as I nod.
There are hundreds of Facebook pages with her name on them.
Hands shaking, I quickly click through, and a few aren’t private. In fact, a very interesting one features a photo of her – and her husband – with a bichon frise puppy between them. She has more than 1,800 friends here.
“She’s popular,” my friend says. “She’s also a cheater”.
I imagine hubby demanding that a suitably marital photo is provided for all other interested parties.
My friend says, “Man, I can’t believe you fell for it. Know why she does this?”
I shake my head as I feel bloody tears coming.
“She can text you through a site and, even if her husband is suspicious, he’s never going to get access to these messages.”
I mumble, “Glad thing I found out now.”
Even though I’m not a card-carrying member of the Good Man Project, I know I’m honest. But she’s a comedienne.
Her response to my vitriolic tirade was, “What’d you think, mate? All’s fair!”