Go ahead, let out a big “what the fuck is wrong with this kid?” and let me know when you’re done so I can explain.
Several years ago I amassed a few thousand followers over on good ‘ol Twitter, and these fellows blowing up my phone in the group chat (who are talking about barbeque right now, I believe) were some of the people I interacted with most often. They talked shit to me like most other red-blooded males in my life. Everyone needs a good e-noogie every now and then, I promise. It keeps you #humbled and #blessed. So we got tired of constantly tweeting back and forth, and over time someone amassed all of our phone numbers via direct messages and began a group chat. Thankfully, none of us have an Android phone, because looking at green text messages makes me want to punch an old lady in the throat.
Why should meeting people on the Internet be weird? Unless you’re a whirling tornado of drunken destruction who can’t have nice things, you probably have a smartphone too. If you’re on social media, you are invited to post anything related to your life for any stranger on the same website to see. And you know you do, religiously. Dudes tweet about going to the gym for the sole purpose of letting girls know they are dedicated to getting a chiseled bod in hopes that some day, they will make sweet sex pudding with a willing lady after sloppy bar makeouts all night. Girls post candid pictures of them laughing mid-hug on Instagram with the caption “love this girl omg” and without fail there will be that fucking heart eyes emoji from three of her sorority sisters somewhere in the comments. You people are out on social media literally begging people to interact with you and I’M the weird one for having Internet friends. Fuck you guys.
I’m not even the weirdest offender. If you’re on Twitter, you’ve probably heard of Vine. Six second videos of people slapping each other, eight year olds crying, football players getting knocked out; you know, the good stuff. There are a few people considered “Vine famous,” and I shit you not, I have seen Vines where they invite their millions of followers to hang out with them at some location in the country. Lets talk numbers here – in 2010 the homicide rate in the United States was 4.8 murders per 100,000 people. If a “Vine famous” star has 2 million followers, that’s 96 murderers. Congratulations, you just invited 96 people to kill you and put your body in a freezer to save for later. Better put some Gatorades on ice, somebody’s probably going to be thirsty after a long day of stabbing.
It doesn’t even stop there. Doesn’t that eHarmony guy say 1 in 5 relationships begins on the Internet? Well Facebook and Tinder are eHarmony for college students. The reason I even started talking to one of my ex-girlfriends is because she got incredibly drunk one night and poked me on Facebook. Just look at our relationship now, she doesn’t even acknowledge that I exist on Earth! If that’s not a story of romance bred from the power of the Internet, I don’t know what is. Tip of the hat to you, Mark Zuckerburg. Tinder takes it one step further and just streamlines the process. When a girl and a guy get matched, the whole awkward “talking” phase is skipped and goes right to the “when are we meeting up so you can put your sword of justice in my chamber of secrets” phase. Convenient right? While you ladies get judging looks from your friends picking you up from the guy’s house in the morning, bros have already exchanged their fist bumps and are cruising Tinder already. Again, romance. Welcome to the future of dating.
So don’t be ashamed of meeting someone on the Internet, unless you’re agreeing to meet up with an 18 year old blonde girl and a 35 year old “entrepreneur” named Steve shows up. Then you can be ashamed.
Jake Alexander is a first year senior and malt liquor aficionado. You can follow him on Twitter — @callmeshitto.
[Image via ShutterStock]
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