The powers that be asked me to join Facebook for the campaign. Apparently it has something to do with networking.
Just what is Facebook?
Facebook (n): A “social utility” created with the intent of bullying you into becoming a cyber-stalker while at the same time forcing you to grovel for friendship.
Being the good little worker bee that I am, I signed up today. Before I could even create a profile for myself, questions were popping up. “We think you might know these people in your high school graduating class – would you like to add them as friends?” “These people have names that begin with “J” – would you like to add them as your friends?” “May we publish your full birthdate so as to ensure complete humiliation?”
It got worse. I wrote up a very hastily created profile and was bombarded with “Nancy Neatfreak shares your interest in developing a self-cleaning kitchen floor. Would you like to add her as a friend?”
I added a friend. Almost instantly, “friends” were adding me. Then Facebook started telling me about all of the friends I had in common with the previously mentioned friends and friends that they had that I might want to have. The pressure was really starting to get to me. What if I don’t want all of those friends? What if my friends’ friends don’t want me? How will I know who my real friends are and who is just pretending to be my friend?
These are all questions that I thought I left behind in grade school. (Facebook knows about all of my elementary school classmates, too. It even showed me pictures.)
And speaking of elementary school, when is the last time you went up to someone in real life and asked, “Will you be my friend?” Seriously. And what if I couldn’t handle the rejection? What if someone were to see my invitation to them and say, “No, I do not want to be your friend. I think you are lame for asking.” Oh, the humanity!
And do you know what the worst thing about Facebook is? I can’t figure out how to make my page look cute. That’s right – I’m being forced to beg for the friendship of people I haven’t seen or cared about for twenty years all the while with the knowledge that if they indeed do want to become my friend, they will be referred to a plain, ugly, no frills page. I won’t even be able to fool them into thinking that I’m interesting.
It’s all too much for me to bear.
But in the meantime, will you be my friend?