Hi, my name is Joelle. Facebook is where you like things. And I like Mayonnaise, Saturdays, and Sour Cream.
I got in a fight with my boyfriend yesterday. He wouldn’t tell me why he was mad because he’s impossible to work with when he fights. All pouts and whimpers from him.
When I fight, I ask direct questions until my questions become direct statements uttered at higher and higher decibels until I shake his dumb little head for answers and none come out. Then I call my friend Justine and we get coffee or mimosas or dark ales and I tell her about the fight I just had with my silly boyfriend. This happens about once a week and is one of the reasons my relationship with Justine is so strong. She is very affirming and always takes my side of the argument because a) I’m right and b) she’s a good friend.
Yesterday, the fight was in late afternoon so Justine and I drank ales. I like ales a lot but not on Facebook because my teetotaler family is on Facebook and they don’t know that I like ales. Yes, ales is plural because people who drink one ale are not real people in actual life.
Justine drank her ales slowly while I gulped down three in an hour and complained about my boyfriend problems. Justine was, per usual, a fantastic listener. But she looked more concerned this time. After my hour rant, Justine spoke: “Maybe he’s upset because you won’t put your relationship on Facebook. It has been two years since you guys started dating.”
I was a little shocked. Justine was taking his side? I accused her of as much. “There’s no sides Joelle,” she said, “open your Facebook, are you even friends with him?”
“No I’m not Justine. You know this. My family can never know about him.”
“So you’re never going to tell them?”
“You know why Justine. My family members are all single virgins. Even my parents. They got divorced and are born-again virgins in the sight of the Lord. They can’t know that I live with my boyfriend. Are you forgetting the church slash cult I escaped from?”
“Open your Facebook and send your boyfriend a friend request.”
“Boys don’t care about stupid stuff like Facebook.”
“I thought you said that all he cared about was stupid stuff? He’s probably frustrated with you because you’re always hiding him from your friends and family.
Sighing and laying my head on the table, I knew Justine was right. Hiding my boyfriend was exhausting. I opened my Facebook timeline. My feed featured an update from the Mayonnaise Lovers Society, an ad for an “I heart Saturdays” t-shirt, and a video of frat guys having a sour cream eating contest.
I searched for my boyfriend and clicked “Add Friend” on his profile.
“That’s a good first step,” said Justine. She grabbed my three glasses and went to the bar to get me more ales.