A Picture is Worth- Well, You Know…

Two friends meet at a favorite coffee shop to discuss current events.

Friend One: Well, I finally did it.

Friend Two: Did what? Got a tattoo, re-lost your virginity, tried out for an Olympic sport?

Friend One: Don’t be so snarky. The only body art I ever got was a hickey, followed closely by the V thing, and there isn’t an official naked Olympic sporting event, although we both would have earned medals many times over.

Friend Two: Ah yes, I vaguely remember those “Good Old Days”. *Sigh*  So what did you really do?

FO: I finally started a Facebook page.

FT: Congrats! It’s about time. How’s it going?

FO: Well, my computer and social networking skills aren’t quite cutting edge, so you are my only friend request so far.

FT: Let’s take a look. (Opens tablet, and brings up FB site) OK I just accepted your “friend” request. So let’s switch to your page. *tap, tap, tap*

FO: See- there’s nothing there; I don’t even have a photo, just a gray head silhouette on a blue square.

FT: But you do have advertisers trying to get your attention. That’s immediate and never ending. FB has invasive, targeting software that tracks anything you “like” or website you click on and within 30 seconds they direct ads related to those topics melded with any profile info you are required to enter to set up a personal page.

FO: Well, I don’t need a Miracle Ear or Hover Round Wheelchair. Do they honestly think any woman over 50 is debilitated and deaf?

FT: Wait until you start getting the male enhancement and incontinence ones, even though you are neither male nor incontinent. Some of those are quite amusing, and forwarding them to specific people with a personal message is quite a satisfying creative outlet.

FO: Speaking of male, what’s this dating site ad doing here? I didn’t click on any of those sites. How can 26 men in my town be interested in meeting me? I own a 10,000 acre ranch. There aren’t 26 men in a 26 mile radius of my home.

FT: Maybe they’re hiding out in the abandoned missile silo or the mountain caves.

FO: Seriously, the silo is being converted into condos and the caves are home to mountain lions. See- those men have no profile photos either. They must all want to remain anonymous to avoid something. That must be what we have in common; I want to avoid them.

FT: The only photo they probably have is a mug shot, or one they copied and pasted from a kinky online website.

FO: Yup- the no selfie group is probably a secret chat room for scammers who want to remain anonymous. Maybe people go there to exchange scam secrets and techniques. They develop invasive FB ads together. Then they can target unwitting victims who are lonely and incontinent.

FT: So you need a profile pic. With just a few taps I’ll photo shop up one that makes you look like a cross between Betty Crocker, Ivanka Trump, and sex on a plate. *Tap, tap, tap* See? Now you look like a smart, sexy, business mogul, and the wooden spoon in your hand hints at just a little wicked side.

FO: Nobody looks like that! *Pause* Although it does kind of resemble me. OK let’s go with it and see what happens.

FT: I just set up a private vetting process that’s government worthy. Plus the buy in fee is seven figures. I’ll just add a firewalled email address with messaging inbox…

FO:  (15 seconds later) *Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding…* What have you done? Now 468 men are interested in meeting me. Five of them are oil sheiks, three are European princes, and one owns an archipelago in the Pacific. And that’s just in the first 15 messages…

FT: So now the real fun begins. You know how we were looking for a project? We do have several friends…

FO: Maybe we should build offices.

FT: I’m on it already.

L. Frank Baum- Where are You when I Need You?

Two “women of a certain age” meet at a neighborhood bistro at the end of the day to quench their thirst and discuss the day’s events:

Server: Hi, My Favorite Ladies “of the evening”. Would you like your usual?

Friend 1: Do martinis come by the gallon?

Friend 2: I’m just going to dive into the vat of olives and pickle myself from both the inside and the outside.

Server: I’ll be right back, just vent politely.

Friend 1: He’s so adorable. I wonder if we could adopt him.

Friend 2: Well, he’d be a more pleasant household member than that daughter of mine. I can’t stand young adults. At 20 she is 20 times worse than during the Terrible Twos.

Friend 1: What has the Wicked Witch been up to now?

Friend 2: I swear she is bipolar. She threw a plate at me. 

Fortunately it missed me but it shattered a window, then sailed straight out into the yard and impaled a tree on the front lawn. After she laughed uncontrollably for 5 minutes, she hugged me and told me she loved me.

Friend 1: You need to increase her meds. Get a tiny hypodermic needle and shoot some into her toothpaste tube. Put a couple squirts into her salad dressing, too. 

Friend 2: I told her to clean up the mess, call the glass shop, and I left. What do I do about the plate in the tree?

Friend 1: Nothing. It’s the latest addition to the performance art exhibit she is making of your house. By summer you’ll be ready to charge admission and pay off your mortgage earlier than you ever expected.

Friend 2: You know, it’s like we’re living in Oz. My daughter is truly the Wicked Witch of the West, and at work I’m surrounded by those harping flying monkeys. Your almost ex-boyfriend needs a heart, and your Boss needs a brain.

 

Friend 1: *Sigh*

Friend 2: What about you and the Boss? Any tension relief there? I know long distance relationships are hard with you two 1,000 miles apart, but he must be very dense to not get the fact that you two have more than a work thing going on. I feel the airwaves sizzle every time he calls your cell.

Friend 1: The last four times he called I had just gotten out of the shower.

Friend 2: Well, that has some possibilities…

Friend 1: I remained calm, explained the situation and asked him to call back in an hour. Then I hung up. At least he isn’t texting at 3 AM any more. The man needs copious amounts of sleeping pills.

Friend 2: So what happened last time?

Friend 1: I again politely explained that I had just gotten out of the shower. He just kept babbling, so when he took a breath I said, “I told you I just got out of the shower. I’m lying on my bed naked and wet. If I’m going to talk with a man while I am naked and wet it isn’t going to be about dog food. If you want a naked and wet conversation, I’m ready.”

Friend 2: So what did he say?

Friend 1: I don’t know. The line went dead and I haven’t heard from him in two days.

Server: Come, my ladies-I have your beverages and it’s time to depart Munchkin Land.

I may not be your Wizard Du Jour, but I did just download the Yellow Brick Road app to your smartphones. 

Hit speed dial and your carriage will be outside in just a minute. First stop- the Red Shoe Store. Pay no attention to the driver behind the curtain and enjoy the evening.