Like umpty-dump million other people, I'm on Facebook. I don't have that many friends there -- not as if I don't already waste too much time in cyberspace -- but it's a social phenomenon equivalent to the old network TV days when you'd watch something like Laugh-in, then talk about it around the water cooler the next mornig. A writer needs to check the pulse of society now and again. I'm on Twitter, too, though I've never actually twitted. Um, I mean "tweeted ... "
Anyway, generally when I get a friend request I just okay it. Some are folks I know and haven't seen in a while. Some are fans. Yesterday, I got one from somebody, a young woman from the picture, named "Cicely Mankin." So I clicked the okay button. It took me to the FB site, whereupon the picture of "Cicely" enlarged a bit to show a bit of cleavage and a link -- and a note something to the effect of "Hi! I've put some of my pictures up, but you have to verify your age to see them!"
Uh oh ...
Alas, I won't ever know what young Cicely looks like past her Facebook portrait because I didn't click on the appropriate link.
And, upon reflection this morning, much as I hated to do it, I went to my friend list to unfriend young Cicely. Because it seems as if she was leading me on about wanting to be my friend ...
When I looked for her to click the unfriend box, she was already gone. A search for the name turned up empty ...
It was as if she never existed.
Oh, Cicely!
If she should turn up on your Facebook doorstep, don't take it too hard if she suddenly vanishes if you don't go have a look at her pictures.
Life is sometimes cruel ...
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