Last night was Alice’s 21st Birthday. A giddy time of celebration for friends that unfortunately ended in a tiny part of my soul dying. This was not a ‘The Hangover 3’ situation, in fact most of the night was a blaring success, the sentimental speeches, the good food, the waiter that stood too close while pouring water that his crutch kind of awkwardly rested on your arm; no, this event occurred just before we were about to sleep, and has changed the way I will use Facebook for the rest of my life (2 weeks).
I work in a store that is frequented by tourists, this is both a blessing and a curse. In the past week or so there have been a plethora of unusually attractive, babin’ Europeans who require my refined services…. in retail. As each one came and went I started imagining the various myself in various European weddings. I am completely unaware of how a German or Greek Wedding differs from an Australian one, so my visions were mainly reductive, almost-racist manifestations of my narrow imagination. A few days ago I served a particularly stunning German fellow. He was the embodiment of an Aryan God, and while Hitler certainly took the love too far – with this guy, you could kind of see it.
We talked for about 20 minutes… Maybe talked is a bit of a strong word. Talked implies a two way conversation. Mostly he asked ‘sorry, what?’ and nodded until he realised what I said was kind of important to in which case he would ask ‘sorry, what?’ again. All I knew was that this completely clueless German was certainly not light on the eye-contact and I was suddenly plagued by that the universal ambiguity that ruins everyone’s lives.
I’m only admitting it because I know that everyone secretly does it. Facebook stalking. Whether it be of an ex, a successful person you know, a German babe or just your friends in general, (I’m hoping) Facebook trolling is as common as HPV among sexually active persons (that’s very). If there was a survey done on residents of the First World I guarantee that in the List of Top 5 most annoying occurrences, ‘Private Profiles’ would be there, just under ‘The Kardashians’. We stalk because you can tell a lot about a person from their Facebook Profile. If you’re not friends with someone and you can see all of their profile, it’s only fair to assume that they’re probably a really huge slut. If you browse their ‘likes’ and Worshipping Jesus is there, you can probably tell whether or not you’re going to get along with them just from that. Still hasn’t got Timeline? They are adorably inept with technology/a hipster/my mother.
I couldn’t remember the German’s name exactly, but suddenly, lying there on the couch containing a sneaky munt, with a stroke of tipsy genius I managed to locate him. Instant swoon. I celebrated and screamed, ‘Alice, It’s my future husband!’ She was suitably excited and asked to see his photo. Since the photo was a thumbnail and I didn’t want to offend her eyes by demanding they strain to witness the beauty of my Aryan prince I did the old Triple Tap Zoom on my iPhone (if you haven’t activated this feature, do it immediately, life changing). I handed the phone over to her, but she was obviously one of the people who hadn’t embraced this Zoom capability. She rested her finger on the screen, seemingly innocently. Suddenly a gasp. And my life was over.
‘Oh my God, I accidentally just sent a friend request.’
Suddenly I was not so much tired and happy as I was scrambling to figure out a way to reverse time. A series of breathless squeals and scrambling for my phone was fruitless, THERE WAS NO WAY TO REVERSE THIS ON MY PHONE. I jumped for the laptop and typed facebook.com at lightning speed. However, it seemed that the internet speed had been throttled by exceeding the download limit. Perfect.
Alice was trying to calm me down cooing, ‘it will be okay, just cancel the request’
My voice had suddenly dropped into what can only be described as a Orc-like rejecting any sentiment of comfort or consolation. My identity as a complete Facebook Creeper was going to be revealed. It took about 5 minutes to cancel the request, but inevitably it’s entirely possible that he has received an email stating my name and my wish to become friends on his Facebook Page.
Although I had done all that I could, I still felt like this.
And while I’ve been obsessing about my freakdom over the last 24 hours, the truth is I actually couldn’t help but laugh (and cry) while it was happening. Embarassing moments that make me want to kill myself remind me that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously all the time. What doesn’t kill you huh? While I
would have still would give a lot to change the situation, I’m glad that I’m not alone in my weirdness.
Afterword: Yes, that is Paula Abdul as my Display Picture, A not-so-well-thought-out, snap decision to hide my face in case he chose to investigate the name that came with the mysterious 2:15am Friend Request Email.