Remember when Facebook was only for college kids, and the rest of us had to use MySpace? MySpace is basically the same thing, except you can see who has looked at your profile. The fear of an ex-boyfriend or a crush seeing your profile picture appear in his "Who's Viewed Me" section suppressed the crazy. Then Facebook opened its virtual doors to everyone, and the crazy was unleashed. You can't see who's viewed your profile, and, as I found out not too long ago, you can look at people within your regional network. Commence stalkerdom.
Case #1 - Bi Guy:
Megan had been seeing Josh for about a week. Things were going well, though he did seem a little overbearing. But he was funny and smart, and whattdyaknow, he was on Facebook too! Sitting on my couch one afternoon, she decided to take a little peek at his page, since they were in the same network.
"I'm having a heart attack!" she yelled across my apartment.
"Oh?" I casually replied from the bathroom, too busy eyeing an ominous wrinkle on my forehead to worry about such matters.
"On his Facebook it says, 'Interested in: Women....Men.'"
The wrinkle could wait. This relationship had just gotten good.
We inspected his page, analyzing every photo, comment, and status update, but the evidence was too ambiguous. Could it have been a mistake? Surely not. Maybe someone hacked in. But he is awfully chummy with that European guy in several pictures. But no, no way is he bi. Maybe it's a joke. Would a straight guy joke about that?
We polled our friends and even a guy in line at T.J. Maxx. Half said it was probably a joke. The other half said drop him immediately. (We also found out the guy in T.J. Maxx had a girlfriend. We had to know -- he was cute and not bi-looking at all.)
The answer was clear: she would have to ask him.
The most direct way was, of course, texting, and that conversation went on for the next six hours, something like this: "Are you bi?" "I am, I was meaning to tell you." "Oh really? I don't know what to say." "Just kidding, I'm not really bi. LOL" "Not funny, I can't tell if you're being serious." "If you can't take a joke I don't think we should see each other anymore." "I can take a joke. Haha. See?"
Well, not nothing. I heard an earful the next four days. Suddenly he was the most amazing guy and they had the most amazing connection and the amazingness was ruined over a little misunderstanding regarding his current gender preference.
In the end, after much apologizing on Megan's part, they did see each other again, and he was a colossal jerk, which we had known pretty much from the start.
Case #2 - Always Off On A Humanitarian Mission Guy:
It's a well known fact that DC is a terrible place for a girl to find a guy, and those of us who work in the my very high profile government building know it's rare to just find a single guy in the place, much less one you might be interested in. So the day I met Humanitarian Guy I was automatically enamored, if for nothing but that he had no wife and was taller than me.
The occasion was simple happenstance -- after the presidential administration rolled over, he lost his job on the Hill and took a 10-month assignment across the hall. We already knew their fax machine was broken and were used to various people ringing our doorbell and requesting to use ours. One day the bell rang and I buzzed the person in, and there he stood, shining like a ray of light in my sea of married people world (well, he shines this way in my memory. At this point I still assumed he was a creepy married). He was cute, but I paid no attention because all the cute ones (and not cute ones) are married. He was chatting it up with me, and I was only half-interested until he told me his 10-year high shcool reunion was this year (wait, he's my age?) and he was hoping to buy a condo soon, a nice little bachelor pad. The word "bachelor" rolled off his tongue like butter -- sweet, magical butter. You have to understand, the under-30 single man working here is a mythical creature. Yet there he was, standing at my fax machine smiling at me. My vision blurred. My head was spinning. I was overwhelmed with a strange feeling I hadn't felt in a long time. I had a crush on the new guy across the hall.
He showed up several times over the next week, and each time he would linger and tell me about himself and what he did. Now that I think about it, he didn't ask me too much about myself, but when a girl has a crush she doesn't notice that the guy really isn't being all that attentive. At the end of the week, he let me know he was headed to Afghanistan on a humanitarian mission for a few days, but we should get lunch when he got back.
A week passed, then another, then another. He had said he would be gone a few days, so I began to get suspicious. If only I had access to his Facebook I could at least know if he was back. I looked him up and then realized, as Megan had taught me, that we were in the same regional network. Hooray!
According to my research, he had come back, put a bid on a condo, then left again. "He's ignoring me," I told my friends. "No, he's in Afghanistan. It's remote. Perfectly legit excuse," they told me. That held me over for the rest of the week, and I restrained myself from researching further until Friday. My heart sunk when I read his status message: "Back in the States." How could it be that I found the one Singleton and he was not into me?
In Bi Guy fashion, he was suddenly amazing, and I had missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of being with Amazing Humanitarian Guy who I really knew nothing about, definitely not enough to determine if I actually liked him.
This all must stem back to Eve eating of the other tree, desperately wanting what she couldn't have. That little piece of forbidden fruit became amazing amazingness, and she had to have it. Once she got it, she found out it wasn't that great, plus it resulted in PMS.
Moral of the story: Facebook stalking is a pain in the uterus. Next time I feel the urge I will eat some chocolate and get over it.