My neighbor upstairs, the one who just moved in, is having raucous sex. I know because it woke me up out of a pretty restful sleep in the wee hours of the morning. Try as I might to will myself to hurry up and drift back off to blissful, coital-less unconsciousness, I listened to her man friend do his best to drill her down through the bed, past the floor, and into my apartment.
So I figured I had two options: keep hoping what I was hearing was their last spurt of voracious humping or get on up, catch an episode of The Golden Girls, and write a blog post. Clearly, I chose the latter.
Anyway, all of this banging and clanging reminded me of a public service announcement I’ve been meaning to make, and it’s about the misuse of the Facebook inbox. It’s a handy way to communicate with groups, send inside jokes to friends, and circulate 1,005 unsolicited party and event invitations that I’ll never consider attending.
It’s not designed to be a creepy meat market for seedy guys.
Has it ever happened to you? Post a picture or update a status and then, out of the wild blue yonder, that little flag symbol goes from white to red, indicating that some nut wants to make a comment that, for whatever reason, wasn’t for the eyes of the viewing public? No? Just me? Oh. OK then.
Forget that. I know it’s not. Some of my friends have made the same observation, and more than a few of them have also had guys in committed relationships—some of them married—duck under the cover of privacy to spark a conversation.
If a sentence starts with, “Guess who inboxed me?” we’re already rolling our eyes because we know how the rest of the story plays out. Either he’s married and sneaking over for some off-the-grid flirting or he’s single and trying to do his dirt one-on-one so as not to hock off the other chicks he’s propositioned and hit paydirt with.
Last week, it was a high school boyfriend who was fighting with his current girlfriend. So I guess, by default, he thought he’d rebuild his man ego with a little inbox flirtation with his ex from way back when. I didn’t bite. And I didn’t take kindly to someone’s attempt to make me his bottom chick. This week, who knows what Facebook inbox follies await. A friend’s older brother? A used-to-be, forgotten neighbor? It’s only Thursday.
Have you ever--or would you ever--get a date on Facebook?
Image via MoneyBlogNewz/Flickr