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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

The long story.

I am still super frustrated and angry about the huge misunderstanding I had using Friendster. Knowing that trying to explain to this guy will only make things more aggravating, I’m going to explain here and be done with it.

Here is the timeline of what actually happened.

I browsed the Friendster gallery and saw your profile. Hmmm. Interesting. I browsed the gallery and saw other people. Interesting. Another day I go back and see yours again, still interesting. That is how it works for me, after happening upon the same profile and being interested, maybe I write a short message. After seeing your profile a number of times (and I’ll be honest, looking at your webpage) I was intrigued. You sounded brilliant, funny, creative and you liked cats and ice cream.

So I sent you a friendster message. I never got a reply, but we all know that Friendster messaging sucks. I reread my original message and thought, “this might have been a little lame.” You seemed so interesting, that I wanted to try one more time.

So I did. I wrote a seond message. Then I forgot about it. Oh well, no answer. Whatever.

THEN YOU CAME INTO MY STORE. Maybe you’d been a customer before, but I didn’t notice you until AFTER I wrote the messages. I went through my mental rolodex, how do I know that guy. Finally I realized you were the guy from Friendster. How did I recognize you? opposed to other people on Friendster, you used good portraits that showed what you actually looked like. Mine, not so good.

I didn’t wait on you, I was in the back of the store racking my brain. Who is that guy? As you walked out the door I realized. I said to myself and my friends, what do I do? This guy I have a cyber crush on just came into my store. I didn’t think you lived in Chicago Proper, so I decided it was a fluke and I would only make an approach if I saw you again.

And I did. I started running into you on my street and you came back to the store. In my worldview, this was an example of what a small world it is. Synchronicity. Wow, looks like we were bound to meet anyway. Not like, “oh my god, he’s the one.” but proof that the world is connected.

That is when I decided to write one final time and say that I realized you are a customer and I’m a manager, this is who I am and I’ll introduce myself. Apparently my “it’s a small world” philosophy came across as “i’m a nutso stalker,” because you wrote me a nasty, mean email back.

How about, “I’m flattered, but my silence meant I wasn’t interested.” or “That is wierd, but let’s drop this.”

Let me reiterate.

1. I wrote you before I was aware you were a customer.

2. After you seemed to be a regular and a neighbor, I wrote you the final time.

3. I was trying to do the not-creepy thing. I didn’t like that I knew who you were and you didn’t know I knew, that was creepy to me.

If it was maddening, then I suspect you were reading my blog and saw my inner working the whole time. Synchronicities like this drive me a little batty, that is all there is to it. Three emails over the course of a month are not maddening. Not in my books. Keep in mind, I didn’t come looking for you. You came to my shop. I was working. That is what I do. You happened into my shop. I didn’t go to your campus or try and email you outside of the system of friendster.

So there you have it, if you read my blog. Trust me, your email made it clear that you are not interested. I won’t take you coming in for ice cream as encouragement. It’s good ice cream.

So are the sandwiches and the coffee, tried them yet?

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