Are You My Friend?

Facebook is big on this. Friends. We all need ’em but there are plenty of other places to find pals. The local supermarket, for one.

Undeniably selfish to say, many of these friends are made out of advertising or business needs. To further your agenda. As long as they understand this and you make yourself available to be equally used there’s no problem. I recently sent out a blanket request to every single one of my Facebook contacts to like and follow my new Facebook page, Dee Caples, writer. The response was gratifying, to say the least. Of course, I included the handy-dandy link to it and had a “like” button prominently displayed so it took a minimum amount of their time to do as asked. The fact they cared to spend that few minutes doing what I requested is something I have no words for. Thank you all.

And thank you, readers who come here. And to those who go to Reedsy to read my short stories submitted to their writing prompts contest, I appreciate it. I’m reluctant to invite anyone to follow me anywhere else, but that’s the purpose of doing all this social media: the almighty author platform. Ya just got to do it these days. They want to know if you can market yourself and if you can’t get a following established you may not get published.

I don’t want to be a pest and if you’ve made friends on Facebook you know who they are. Maybe you’ve met them on Twitter, Instagram or somewhere else. Maybe they’re a “mutual friend” of a friend of yours. This person could be a friend of a friend of a friend for all you know. Hell, I suspect Facebook of planting them under your friend requests. I’ve made friends with my Uncle Jim twice and once should have been enough. After that I got smarter.

Well, maybe not. In furtherance of my own ends I’ve been friending people, unsure if they’re in one of my writing groups. Don’t want to offend anyone, right? If one of my fellow groupers wants to be friends, what the hell.

You know what’s coming next, don’t you?

Unless we’ve had sex before I don’t cotton to any man calling me “baby”, especially if I’ve never laid eyes on you. Any guy that continues calling me that after I’ve asked him not to, I expect he’ll eventually hit me up for money. Buy your own I Tunes card, fella. Aw, you didn’t think I’d treat you like this? See? I told you, You don’t know me!

Have you ever gotten a @#%$ picture? I did and it freaked me out totally. I erased it, unfriended the guy and later got flagged like it was my fault. I didn’t ask to see it. I don’t need to read you woke up with a woody and I sure as hell am not about to come over and relieve it. Funny how guys that tell you “that’s okay, I got a better offer” try to pass off a photo of a good-looking man as their own.

Another favorite is: “You know you want to.” Oh, do I? You have me down pat, mother@&*$^%. I already told you two dozen times I’m not coming to your motel room and I don’t want to hear “I’d never hurt you.” The last guy that told me that nearly got his Adam’s apple relocated.

Many refuse to be dissauded and those are likely the ones working a con. Even telling them I have a big, mean old man in prison doesn’t run them off. So, how do you tell the creeps and hucksters from the good guys. I don’t know. Friend ’em all and let God sort ’em out, maybe. Or if he calls you baby kick him off and fahgeddabouddit.

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