It has been a long time since I was on a date. A looong time. So long I’m seriously worried that I won’t know where stuff goes. So long that I’m afraid I’ll giggle when I touch a boob. So long I’m giggling thinking of and typing the word boob. The other day on the el platform a young woman in a tank top had a very interesting tattoo with the words “The truth will set you free” on her back and little birds flying beside the quote. I was two seconds away from licking the path that the birds were traveling.
And Facebook knows this.
We know that what Facebook has become is a data mining gold rush where it can tell us what we want to buy before we want to buy it. But I didn’t know that it could also tell our moods. Because I am opening my Facebook page every morning and finding ads that “Leslie, 34, has sent you a message.” There’s also ads for yoga singles and singles over 40 and singles who like to have their tattoos licked. Facebook knows exactly what I want!
And I know it’s just for me. Because there are no ads for Russian brides, there are no ads for successful executive singles, Facebook knows I don’t have any money.
And the trouble is, I have been two seconds away from clicking them. My hormones are nearly out of control where I will just touch someone and make noises like the Tasmanian Devil.
Help me Twitter, you’re my only hope.