This is the reading: One day this past summer, I logged on to Facebook and realized that I was very close to having 700 online friends” Not bad, I thought to myself, absurdly proud of how any cyberpals, connections, acquaintances and even strangers I’d managed to sign up.
But the number made me uneasy as well. I had just fallen out with a friend I’d spent a lot of time with.
I’d disconnected with a few other ones for the usual reasons-jobs in other cities, family life-limiting social time.
I was as much to blame as they were.
I had a 2-year-old kid of my own at home. Add to that my workaholic irritability, my love of being left alone, and my lack of an office environment. I had fewer friends to hang out with than I’d ever had before. So I decided to have a Facebook party. I used Facebook to create an event and invite my digital chums. Some of them, of course, didn’t live in Toronto, but I figured, it’s summer and people travel. You never know who might be I town. If they lined in Buffalo or Vancouver, they could just click “not attending” and “not attending”. After a week the response stopped coming in and were ready to be tabulated. Fifteen people said they were attending, and 60 said maybe. A few hundred said not, and the rest just ignored the invitation altogether. I figured that about 20 people would show up. That sounded pretty good to me. Twenty potential new friends. On the evening in question, I took a shower. I shaved. I splashed on my tingly man perfume. I put on my pants and a favorite shirt. Brimming with optimism, I headed over to the neighborhood watering hole and waited.
PLEASE THIS IS NOT THE END THERE STILL MORE TO COMPLETE THE READING.
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