Remember that girl you went on 2 dates with last year? The one who accepted your friend request right away and things seemed to be going great, but then she stopped returning your calls? The one you cried over for two weeks? Remember how you told all your friends you were going to kill yourself when her relationship status change from “Single” to “In a Relationship With Donny Jerkoffenstein”? Of course you do; you’re a raving psycho! What’s more, you’ve definitely been scouring both your news feed and her personal profile several times a day since then, hoping against hope that one day you’ll see that magical little broken heart icon next to the update, “Bethany Bitchface is now single.”
It’s exhausting work. Between the late night Facestalking in between bouts of masturbating with your own tears — often in combination with the Facestalking — you hardly have any time to sleep. If only there were some way to automate the process! If only Facebook would tell you when Bethany finally wises up and drops douchy Donny. Well, your wait is over, slugger! That’s right, now you can passively stalk in peace, thanks to the new Breakup Notifier app for Facebook. Simply log in using your Facebook account, allow BN to access all your personal information (I mean, why not? It’s already all over Facebook anyway. My boy Drama’s baby son could steal your identity at this point.), choose who you’re interested in from among your friends (Choose as many as you want! Everyone needs a backup plan!), and then sit back and let BN do all the work, notifying you as soon as any of those folks (Note the non-gender specific plural noun here. Cause, who am I to judge?) breaks free from their respective significant other.
Is this really what we’ve come to? I beg of you, dear readers: are we really this lazy? It used to be in the good ol’ days that when you lusted for someone on Facebook, you checked their profile while you were drunk, stalked all their pictures, maybe sent an awkward and regrettable message or wall post their way, then masturbated to pictures from their beach vacation before softly crying yourself to sleep. Wasn’t that enough?
The logical progression is that after signing up for BN, you’ll compulsively check your e-mail and smartphone every 6 seconds, hoping to Jebus that you got that miraculous e-mail alert that one — because let’s face it, you picked like 14 — of the precious forbidden fruits of your love has fallen off the tree and is just waiting to be plucked up by a nutso stalker. And just think: you — YOU — could be that nutso stalker! Just as soon as you get that e-mail, Prince Charming. No? You didn’t get it yet? Try checking your spam folder, sometimes stuff gets caught in– no? Not there either? Are you sure you have the right e-mail address on your Facebook profile? Oh, you checked that already? Ten times? I see. Well, I guess she hasn’t come to her senses and realized you’re the only one for her just yet. Can’t imagine why; it’s a real mystery.
Maybe I’m just being cynical. That’s entirely possible; after all, I do hate just about everything. Let’s look at the best case scenario: you get the e-mail, you ever-so-coyly leave a charming wall post for the tender object of your desires, wait a few days, and — by the gods! — she does want to go to the batting cages with you! And OF COURSE she’ll go check out the new Dane Cook movie with you. She’s been dying to see it, too! Just a short time later, both of your broken hearts are mended as this budding romance makes you feel as though you could float to the moon.
So, uh– when do you tell her? You know, that part about how you used a Facebook stalker app to follow her — and the 13 other special ladies — for you so that you could know at the precise moment when she was available to be swept off her feet again? How exactly do you plan on broaching that subject, Romeo? If you have any conceivable approach that has more than a 0.08% chance of not ending with you having a hand print on your jaw, sore balls and one less Facebook friend, I would just love to hear it. Tweet at me, playa.
Then again, I suppose you always have the option of not telling her. That might be a smart move, because as everyone knows, all the best relationships are born from one grand gesture of not only general ickiness, but also brazen dishonesty. Oh, and to be clear, when she inevitably finds out, she will tell all her friends and put that shit all over Facebook. You just lost a girlfriend AND your shot at your 13 other true loves, plus all their friends.
Bottom line: best to go with the old-fashioned route by just constantly and obsessively checking her profile, occasionally leaving a witty comment on her status like the rest of us God-fearing American men do.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I’m expecting a very important e-mail.