When I'm set up on a blind date, I insist that there be an exchange of pictures beforehand. It's a relatively new policy, but in today's digital age, what's the big deal to email a photo? Truth be told, it's actually more for the woman than for me. With the exceptions of those I've written about in previous posts, most of my friends know my taste, and generally don't steer me wrong when it comes to setting me up with women I'd find attractive. I, however, want the woman to know what I look like. I don't want to waste an hour in some Starbucks with a chick sitting there scowling because my sideburns are too long, or my eyebrows are too short, or my lips are not the right shape, or god forbid, I look too ashkenaz.
I'll usually say something like, "Let me send you a picture of myself so you know what you're getting into." After a courtesy laugh, they either say, "You don't have to," to which I respond, "No, I want to," or they simply say, "Okay." Most send pictures back. A small minority don't with some excuse about how their computer isn't working. They must have those special computers that can only receive emails, and not send them.
Anyway, when I told last night's blog specimen that I was going to send her a picture, she said she'd just check me out on Facebook.
"I'm not on Facebook," I responded.
"Seriously?," she said with the incredulity usually reserved for when one reveals to you that they have an extra testicle.
"Nah, not my thing, but I can email you a pic in two seconds."
"How could you not be on Facebook?"
"Facebook, texting?. I don't do those things," I replied. "What's your email? I'll send you the pic."
"Why don't you sign up for Facebook, and then add me as a friend. We can take it from there," she insisted.
"Are you serious? You want me to sign up for Facebook so you can see a picture?," I said, seething, wanting to strangle her, and every one who does this Facebook shit.
"Yeah. It's cool."
Not knowing how to respond to this utter dibshit's request, I wished her a good night, and we hung up.
But dibshitted-ness must be contagious because I actually signed up for Facebook. I have about ten confirmed friends so far. Guess who ain't one of 'em?