Not sure what's going on, but suddenly everyone wants to be my friend.
Not in real life, mind you, only on MySpace. I take pride that I have only one friend on my page. She's not someone I can actually be friends with, so I leave her there out of spite. I've refused many, many invites and will refuse many more. Mainly because I don't know who they hell these people are and if they knew me at all there is no fucking way they would want to be my friend. It's the ultimate catch 22. How can I be friends with someone who would have me as a friend? Poor bastards.
Lately, there's been a spike in friend requests on my page. I don't know why, either. I think it relates to when I add new pictures. Usually I just delete the requests especially when there aren't pictures associated with the profiles. A sure sign something stinks. But last week I had a Constanza moment. You know when George decides to go against every instinct he has and things start going well for him? I decided to do that on MySpace. I won't automatically delete these new wannabe friends. I am now going to investigate these kind, friendly folks and see what they're about. Only then will I delete them.
Subject 1: Bill Champitto. He's a jazz pianist who 'performs with various sizes of bands and often performs solo'. I assume he means the number of band members and not the aggregate weight of said members. That would just be mean. Maybe he can be my friend. I'm often mean and at times perform solo.
Bill lives in Winthrop and plays all over the greater Boston area. I notice he's playing right near me on April 21st at the Blue's Grille in Melrose. Might have to drop by and hang out with my new bud. Browsing the pictures it becomes evident that Bill likes the beach. Not because there are a lot of pictures of him at the beach, but because one of his captions reads 'I like the beach'.
So far, so good. However, I noticed Bill has put on a lot of weight. Judging by the last three pics, maybe too much. Like 50 pounds. Not healthy, Bill, old buddy. Not healthy at all. Time to get my new friend on the BeachBum diet/exercise routine (weigh in Sunday, btw). I also notice Bill is married and his wife is a stained glass artist.
Listening to his music, it seems he's gone to the John Tesh school of rock. Oh, sorry, jazz. Wait, what the fuck? He's trying to sell me his songs. I thought we were friends, Bill. Why would I have to buy your crappy songs for 99 cents a piece? You're not going to throw me a freebie? Fuck you, Bill. You don't want to be my friend. You're trying to sell me shit.
Subject 2: Kristy. The only things I know about Kristy is she lives in Stockton, NJ and doesn't want kids. There is no picture or any other information. While there is a remote possibility she's a bombshell who travels to Boston frequently for business and wouldn't mind having an illicit affair with an unattractive, married, 40 year old with thinning hair and absolutely no motivation to initiate such an affair (meaning she would have to do all the work to make it happen), that just seems to be my imagination getting the better of me.
Subject 3: Lynette. I was going to link to lovely Lynette, who offered to show me nude pictures of herself, but her profile was removed. Finally, my one true chance of finding a friend and Tom rips her out of my grasp. Stupid MySpace.
Subject 4: Barrie. From Oklahoma City, Barrie also doesn't want to have kids and is a Gemini. That's basically all I know about him. His profile has also been removed.
Decision: I'm wasting my time.
So it appears, just like George, I'm going back to my old routine. Tell you what, I'll only investigate those who want to be my friend if they have any relevant info on their page. Like Bill. I feel I know him already and have made an informed decision not to be his friend.
The others were just educated guesses.
As always, I will keep you posted.
Today's distraction: Determine your friendship personality. My friendship style is 'tricky'. You can say that again. Just ask my wife how 'tricky' my friendships can be. Wait. Actually don't ask her that.