If you thought you had a social life, think again.
|Just when you thought talking to people couldn't be any more of a mental challange, the creators of AOL brought us AIM. Small file to download, easy to use, and the simplest way of killing your social status besides being caught in the church hall on a Friday night playing "bingo" with grandma.
As crazy as it sounds, AIM runs our lives. It's really a beautiful thing in some aspects. For example, I haven't had to use the phone in years now for much of anything, thank God. I hate the damn phone. Sharing music and pictures with friends is now as easy as Pam Anderson, unless your buddy is a complete moron. You can now know exactly what the 210 buddies on your buddy list are thinking, when they are typing, what they're typing, how long they've been on the internet, their address, their social security number, size, weight and home phone.
That annoying door sound plays, they come on, their name is in bold, and the warning sound (coincidentially that song YMCA by the villiage people) that you've prompted AIM to play when they come online, wakes your father up from two rooms over. After his flashback to his childhood, he preceeds to scream at you for having "that music" up so loud. That music? That is no music. That is the mating call of AIM.
Their screen name is highlighted in yellow from you clicking on it, it's spelled all wrong for a reason with the last 4 digits of their phone number attached to the end. You've checked the info twice this log on, just to make sure you didn't miss anything the first time around when you found the link to their "Myspace" account and downloaded all the pictures to your desktop background as a collage. You've wanted to talk to them all day long. Didn't have the chance before this though, primarilly because you were picking out the special ringtone that would play when they called your cellphone. But, this is AIM; you can say whatever you want, and if it doesn't sound as charming as a drunk pimp when you recite it in your head, you erase it and start over. No need for the cell where you can annihilate the conversation with one word, sound like Goofy on an acid trip trying to bring it back from the dead, and end all chances that you'd ever have with them.
Should you IM them for the third time this week? You check their name. No away message. No grey text signaling that they're idle. Your conscious tells you not to IM them. You're a pain in the ass. They don't want to talk to you anymore. They've had enough. Your heart tells you differently. They really don't mind talking to you. You make them laugh and they never seem to cut you off. So yeah, go right ahead and IM them. You constantly debate back and forth like an idiot. For some reason your heart is racing, but you blame it on the three packs of NERDS that you ate three days ago. Those things always put up a fight after they go down.
What should you say? Is "Hi" alright? What about "Hey"? "Hey" is cool, relaxed, doesn't give any hints about any feelings. Those are boring though. You say them everytime you talk to them. How about "Yo"? No, that's a bit ghetto for your taste. You're actually quite white. Two shades whiter than this person's ass that you're trying to initiate conversation with to be exact. You're not denying that you are infatuated with them, so hows about a pickup line? Um, pickup line. Yes. What if we try this: "If I followed you home would you keep me?" No, you sound like a sober pimp now. Erase that.
Questions. Yhatzee! Ask them a question about their day. What better way is there to start up conversation? Ok, ok, ok. Give this a whirl: "Hey, how was your day? I didn't get a chance to talk to you at all." Wow that'll do it. You double click on their already highlighted name, take a deep breath, shake off your already shaky, perspiring hands, and type in the question. AIM logs you off.
After you beat the everliving Moses out of your modem and computer tower, and 59 different spellings and rejections of your password, AIM logs back on. As soon as you're done retyping your greeting and are about to hit the return key, the little blue "Times New Roman" font comes up that says: "Way To Go Idiot, They're Away Now". Well, it doesn't really say that, it gives the screen name and a polite little reminder that your "buddy" just went away at 7:52:40 PM or whatever time it is, but AIM has that way of messing with your mind.
You sit there in your dark room with the creatures in your contacts eating away at your eyeballs, absolutely crushed. You "X" out of their IM box and sit back in the spinny chair that you just steamrolled your big toe with when they came online, and you cross your arms in disbelief. The annoying girl from block C that you would rather lick the perimiter of your toilet before you ever laid eyes on her sends you an IM. It reads: "Hey, how was your day? I didn't get a chance to talk to you at all." You shake your head, put her on block, and but up an away message that says: "Brb".