5th
A dead woman asked me to be her Facebook friend
I joined Facebook after I was laid off in order to network for a new job. I also wanted to connect the disparate elements of my life into one place.
As you know, the weird thing about Facebook is that it can connect you to all sorts of people who had a peripheral part of your life.
That funny kid who needed to shave his moustache in kindergarten.
The girl who went on one date with you in college and then got turned off when you told her she was a goddess.
The guy you fired because he took two hour lunch breaks at 9 a.m. in the morning.
These are just a few of the people who I have connected with on Facebook. Actually, I didn’t connect with the guy I fired (I still hold a grudge because he insists on making his 12-step amends through a bulk e-mail instead of toughing it out one-by-one).
So anyway, I’ve reconnected with a lot of people and the best part is that I’ve realized that even though I was a weird kid growing up, I don’t have to hate that guy anymore. It turns out that weird little guy was as loveable as his current incarnation who has spent the last 30 years trying to kill his memory.
It’s been fun.
But the weirdest thing that happened was that a dead woman asked me to be her Facebook friend.
I’m pretty easy about letting people I don’t know into my Facebook universe. Hell, I let a guy who thought he remembered me from a nude New Age retreat join my circle. At this point, I figure any connection is pretty good, so when I got an invite from a woman I didn’t know, I had no problem with it.
A few minutes later, I checked her profile and it was actually the guy who was fired from my work. Apparently, his wife had died before I met her and he was putting a memorial site on Facebook.
I haven’t “Friended” this guy because he made my job very difficult and showed very little remorse (an e-mail apology doesn’t cut it with me). I’ve tried to take the high road and get on with my life, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it was festering like an open cold sore on a cold and dry Santa Ana day.
So I nicely sent a note explaining that I appreciated his intentions, but that I felt awkward joining because I didn’t know his dead wife.
I think I put it this way: “I joined Facebook to reconnect with old friends and network with living people.” I added a note that I wished him well in his recovery.
He replied, “Thanks!” and promised to add me as a friend right away.
He hasn’t, so I haven’t had to press the ignore button.
It’s probably better that way.
