Friend me? I don't think so

Social networking media have a lot to answer for. They’re like entering a lunatic asylum & being engulfed by the inmates.

I created a Twitter profile about a year ago, solely so I could follow a colleague’s tweets. I’ve never posted so much as a syllable. (For one thing—imagine me being limited to 140 characters to express my thoughts. Not going to happen.) I’m not even sure I know how to log back in to my account.

So why is it that a couple of times a week I receive notifications announcing that Tami Someone or Peggy Whosis (always females) is now following me on Twitter?

Following what, exactly?

(I know, they’re hoping I’ll reciprocate & jack up their numbers. But that’s not going to happen, either.)

& then there’s Facebook…

It’s bad enough when people you worked with for a short time try to “friend” you. You can just hit the ignore button there & forget about it.

But the other day I received one of those chirpy messages from Facebook saying I had a message from [Guy I Used To Go Out With Just Out Of College]. Now, that relationship was pretty fractious, back & forth, forth & back; together tight & break up. Finally I put enough distance between us that I didn’t have to think about him any more.

At one point, about 15 years ago, he tracked me down in Virginia (through a brother-in-law who was way too free with handing out my contact number) & called. Evidently just to chat, because there didn’t seem to be any purpose in that conversation. He did, however, mention he’d been in Adult Children of Alcoholics (as well as a couple of “men’s groups”, which—because he was in them—were not in any way ridiculous).

After we hung up I pieced together the idea that he must be in some sort of 12-step program, & one of them is to make amends to the people you’ve hurt or treated badly. So I bunged off a card saying if that’s what he was doing, his behavior was no longer an issue for me.

Then didn’t hear from him until 2002, when I found his phone number in some old calendars. I called, just for ducks, & we reconnected, long-distance.

Well, that lasted a few months, until he took issue with a comment one of my other friends made to an email I’d mass-sent. There was some verbal flipping off between them (both suffering from testosterone poisoning), & then GIUTGOWJOOC turned on me, for somehow having a connection to “this clown”.

At that point I’d had enough. My last, emailed, words to him were, “Grow the hell up.” He replied but I never opened it; just filed it in the appropriate place.

So imagine my surprise to get that Facebook message from GIUTGOWJOOC, slugged “reestablish contact”: “Are you open to that? If not, I understand, and it’s okay.”

Well, where to begin?

First, I was shocked, because in 2003 he not only didn’t have cable TV, he was using a PC with DOS only, & certainly had no internet connection. (He had email via his employer.) He just used the computer for “writing” (& the less said about that, the better).

So, evidently he’s now moved onto the Information Superhighway in his 1957 Chevy—unless he’s still accessing via work.

Second, that whole “I understand & it’s okay” is typical of his arrogant, condescending belief that he’s somehow superior instead of stunted emotionally. This is his persona: he has much stronger relationships with animals than with humans. (Doesn’t much like men; keeps women at a distance. But animals? He holds true to them to death.)

So, no, he doesn’t understand & it’s completely immaterial to me whether he thinks it’s okay or not.

I looked at his profile, which he has open to the public (which says pretty much everything right there—he’s always had an unlisted phone number, but splashes himself all over Facebook?). Sunday he had 12 friends (one being his dog); today he has 13. So he’s basically just trying to build up his “friends”, even if they’re just electrons on a monitor.

& remember what I said about animals? He lists eight of them as living with him. In an 1100 sq ft two-bedroom/one-bath 1950s rancher, which hasn’t ever been updated.

Will I “reestablish contact”? Uh, no. Will I reply? I can’t think of anything that would completely convey my indifference to ever hearing from him.

I’m going to go wash my fingers, now. Because this has been a foray into the underside of social media & they feel slimy.