Adventures in Social Media, Part II:
A Woman Walks Into a Bar...
You walk into a bar. Music is playing. There are clusters of people talking. Someone is walking around passing out flowers. A few patrons are playing scrabble at a table. A strange woman runs up and hugs you a little too hard.
"You and my older sister were in kindergarten together! For two months! And then we moved across the country, and I never saw you again! Wow, you're old now! Look, here's a picture of my Yorki-Poo!"
Just then you spot someone...no, it couldn't be...is it? Yes!
"Excuse me," you say, wriggling away from Ms. Yorki-Poo. "I think I see someone I know."
Sitting at a table are your three best friends from high school. You haven't spoken to them in years. It's great to see them. You're gushing over photos of each other's husbands and kids, when the bartender brings over a drink.
"It's from that gentleman over there," he says, pointing back to the end of the bar.
That sip of White Russian sputters through your nose as you choke. It's your pothead ex-boyfriend from college, flanked by a couple of strippers. You'd duck, but it's too late. He's raising his drink to you. And who's that behind him? Your family priest? Oh God, don't let them meet each other.
Someone taps your shoulder.
You spin around. "MOM???? What are YOU doing here?"
"I was just having the nicest chat with this person who said they saw you in a magazine. I told her everything about you!"
She's drinking a White Russian, and looks past you to wink at your ex.
You run for the exit, but zombies and vampires are blocking the way, poking you.
"Welcome to Facebook," they cackle. "You can login, but you can never leave."
Labels: streaking the quad