This is Your Friends on Facebook

Something happened at the supermarket the other day.

When you are in the supermarket, you tend to concentrate on the task at hand: buying groceries and enjoying the occasional small victory of paying sale prices for various items.

When you encounter an acquaintance whom you haven't connected with in a while, there is usually an internal dialogue that happens, determining whether or not you have the fortitude to actually engage them in conversation.

Of course it's not that you wouldn't have anything to talk about- it's more that depending on the environment, you may only have two to five minutes at most to sum up the past fifteen or more years of your life. Not to mention, you probably think about when the last time you and this person actually hung out and... what were they like again? And are you sure you remember what their name is?

A few years ago, I would actually go out of my way to get the attention of someone I recognized in public places. Then after a surge of luke-warm receptions, I realized that people for the most part need to be prepared to be recognized in public. IN fact, many would prefer not to be recognized. Seeing someone in the supermarket is almost like catching them as they're walking through their garden picking beans in their PJs.

Now when I see someone I know in the supermarket, who is essentially there doing the same thing I am there to do, it becomes an internal dialogue... should I acknowledge, or should I just pass by hoping they won't notice? There is in fact a fair amount of emotional investment involved.

This happened to me the other day. Laurie and I were shopping in our usual method of "scour and conquer" which is basically walking up and down every possible aisle of the store to remind us if we need anything. I tend to populate the cart with items we end up not needing, but that's beside the point.

There, coming down one of the aisles scouring in the opposite direction, was someone I recognized. Thus began the internal dialogue. It intensified as this person approached, until I found myself intensely staring at an array of Soy Sauce bottles in an effort to evade eye contact. I had basically decided that I was not prepared to make the effort. I was sure this person hadn't noticed, and now (phew) they were on their way past and I was in the clear.

But not for long! It appeared that their scouring process was exactly as ours! We ended up crossing paths in the aisle not once, but four times! Approach, avert, do not acknowledge. I think at one point I ended up burning a hole in an apple juice tin with my eyes. This was indeed ridiculous.

In the end, Laurie and I ended up leaving the supermarket with me not having said anything to this person. Interestingly enough, this person and I are in fact friends on Facebook. So, my plan was to flag them down (with a message, not a wall post... come on) to confirm whether or not they were actually at the supermarket on that day.

Lo, my Inbox contained a message from this person the next time I checked, asking if I was at the supermarket. Now we're reacquainting ourselves, from the comfort of Facebook. It feels like walking around the supermarket- not in my 'end of the week' jeans and the shirt I opted to wear twice (even though it had a very discernible beacon of fruit drink stain fastened to the chest plate like an emblem), but as my Profile picture... bold, confident, and sporting a face that says: I am ready to make small talk with acquaintances!

For all of its faults as being a cold, unfeeling replacement for physical social contact, Facebook actually has a place in modern society that fills a gap. If for example, Laurie and I had left the supermarket with me having said nothing to this person, that would have been that. Potentially, the chapter of my contact with this person would have been invariably closed for good.

But in fact, now this person and I are trading messages about work, family, old friends... basically catching up. And you know what I think is really interesting? The next time I see this person in the supermarket, we'll probably chat.

This is something my parent's generation never had- a comfortable, unassuming way to re-cultivate relationships with acquaintances. If for example at the time I feel like I'm not up to reaffirming a dialogue with an acquaintance in public, chances are we're friends on Facebook. And not that any of this is particularly profound in regards to me, but it does make me wonder about how online social networking will affect my children, as it continues to evolve and expand.

In the end, I guess I can say that I have friends, and I have friends on Facebook. Is it a replacement for personal physical contact? Certainly not. But it does fill a gap, and I think it does it very well.

Now if people would just stop sending me invites to corny third party applications...


KRC