Hey, Craig! I’m so psyched you called! It’s been years, right? How’d you even get my number? Oh, yeah. I think I do remember emailing it to you.
Nothing’s wrong, Craig. Seriously, I’m fine. Why do you ask? Because someone told you I was upset you unfriended me? Oh, my God! That’s really funny, because I didn’t even know you unfriended me! I mean, I hardly spend any time on Facebook, so if my list of friends suddenly goes from 279 to 278, it’s not like I’d even notice.
Don’t worry about it. I totally don’t care. Sure, you’re just trying to simplify your life. You want to limit your Facebook friends to people you talk to and hang out with. People you actually quote-unquote know. Good for you. Okay, I’m a little surprised I didn’t make the cut, but whatever. I guess our time in Mr. Valenza’s driver’s ed class doesn’t count (I let you cheat off my final exam, remember? You would have failed if it weren’t for me). I guess the fact that we both like The Muppets is meaningless to you.
There’s no need to be weirded out. I get it: Craig Fenkler is not my friend. Craig Fenkler does not even remember me, despite the fact that I was his date for senior prom. Yeah, I know you went with Susie Soros, but there was a bunch of us that shared the limo, so technically it was more like a group date. There’s no need to split hairs or get hostile.
What? You think I messed with your girlfriend’s car? Listen to yourself, Craig. Listen to how crazy you sound. If some weirdo wants to dump hot sauce on her windshield, why is that my fault? If some lunatic stuffs a burrito in her tailpipe, why am I to blame? That’s right, I am a waitress –- gee, glad you read my Facebook profile! So what if I work at the Taco Shack? Where’s the connection? There’s a lot of people eating Mexican in this world, Craig. Besides, I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend. Yeah, your status said “in a relationship” –- but what does that even mean? I didn’t catch her name. Or that you moved in together. Or that she just bought a Volkswagen. You must have posted all that after you unfriended me.
I have no idea who started a Facebook rumor that you’re a porn addict. Who would say you’re into barnyard animals? Who would do that? See, this is the dark side of social networking. You’ve got to be careful, Craig –- there’s a lot of psychos out there. But I’m sure your real friends, your “inner circle,” as it were, found the whole thing pretty darn funny. Really, your mother was upset? That’s unfortunate. Personally, I think chickens are hysterical. Your girlfriend was upset, too? That’s ridiculous. She must have no sense of humor. Or know something I don’t.
You should call the cops about that, Craig. That’s really disturbing. A dead hamster doesn’t just mysteriously arrive in the mail. Not one with a note pinned to it that says “you’re next.” You’ve got a bona fide stalker. Whoever sends a dead rodent is very troubled. Or maybe just very, very hurt. Or maybe just trying to express the death of something, like –- I don’t know. A friendship, maybe?
Yes, Twinkie did pass recently. Remember? I posted about that right before you unfriended me. You saw the photos, too? Yeah, Twinkie does match that description –- but so do, like, a bazillion other hamsters. If you’re trying to imply that I bubble-wrapped my own dead hamster and sent him to you in a party mailer, then you clearly have some issues to work out. Clearly, you’re a little fixated on me. Besides, I’ll have you know that I had Twinkie cremated by the vet. His sweet little ashes are in a jar by my bed. No, I will not take a picture of it for you, you sick bastard! God, Craig. First barnyard animals, now hamsters. You need help.
You know what? I’m not having this conversation with you. One minute you’re having a friendly chat with me about Facebook, the next you’re talking restraining orders. Restraining orders for what? My entire contact with you since high school amounts to a few jokey posts on your Facebook wall! Yes, Craig, when I wrote “I want to have hot angry sex with you,” I was joking. Obviously! I can’t help it if you took it literally. Maybe you wanted to take it literally, Craig. Maybe you’d like that. If so, you should just be honest instead of getting all Law-and-Order on me. We could work out a mutually satisfying, non-legal solution. Although it might involve a few restraints –- KIDDING!
So fine, Craig, you’re not my Facebook friend. We are over, done, kaput. Although I was doing some random search on another, unrelated Fenkler and accidentally stumbled across your Google+ profile. Join my circle, ‘kay? It’ll be fun! Promise.