Facebook in a Crowd

Hal Neidzviecki
The New York Times Magazine. (Oct. 26, 2008): Lifestyle: p114(L). From Literature Resource Center.
Copyright: COPYRIGHT 2008 The New York Times Company
http://www.nytimes.com
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One day this past summer, I logged on to Facebook and realized that I was very close to having
700 online ''friends.'' Not bad, I thought to myself, absurdly proud of how many cyberpals,
connections, acquaintances and even strangers I'd managed to sign up.

But the number made me uneasy as well. I had just fallen out with a friend I'd spent a lot of time
with. I'd disconnected with a few other ones for the usual reasons -- jobs in other cities, family
life limiting social time. I was as much to blame as they were. I had a 2-year-old kid of my own at
home. Add to that my workaholic irritability, my love of being left alone and my lack of an office
environment or mysterious association with the Masons from which to derive an instant network
of cronies. I had fewer friends to hang out with than I'd ever had before.

So I decided to have a Facebook party. I used Facebook to create an ''event'' and invite my digital
chums. Some of them, of course, didn't live in Toronto, but I figured, it's summer and people
travel. You never know who might be in town. If they lived in Buffalo or Vancouver, they could
just click ''not attending,'' and that would be that. Facebook gives people the option of
R.S.V.P.'ing in three categories -- ''attending,'' ''maybe attending'' and ''not attending.''

After a week the responses stopped coming in and were ready to be tabulated. Fifteen people said
they were attending, and 60 said maybe. A few hundred said not, and the rest just ignored the
invitation altogether. I figured that about 20 people would show up. That sounded pretty good to
me. Twenty potential new friends.

On the evening in question I took a shower. I shaved. I splashed on my tingly man perfume. I put
on new pants and a favorite shirt. Brimming with optimism, I headed over to the neighborhood
watering hole and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Eventually, one person showed up.

I chatted with my new potential friend, Paula, doing my best to pretend I wasn't dismayed and
embarrassed. But I was too self-conscious to be genuine. I kept apologizing for the lack of
attendance. I looked over my shoulder every time the door opened and someone new came in.
Paula was nice about it, assuring me that people probably just felt shy about the idea of making a
new friend. She said she herself had almost decided not to come.

''And now you have me all to yourself,'' I said, trying to sound beneficent and unworried. We
smiled at each other awkwardly.

We made small talk. I found out about her job, her boyfriend, her soccer team. Paula became my
Facebook friend after noticing I was connected to a friend of hers. She thought it would be
interesting to drop by and meet me.
 Eventually we ran out of things to say. Anyway, she had to work in the morning. I picked up the
tab on her Tom Collins and watched as she strode out into the night, not entirely sure if our
friendship would grow.

After she left, I renewed my vigil, waiting for someone to show. It was getting on 11 o'clock and
all my rationalizations -- for example, that people needed time to get home from work, eat dinner,
relax a bit -- were wearing out.

I would learn, when I asked some people who didn't show up the next day, that ''definitely
attending'' on Facebook means ''maybe'' and ''maybe attending'' means ''likely not.'' So I probably
shouldn't have taken it personally. But the combination of alcohol and solitude turned my
thoughts to self-pity. Was I really that big of a loser? Or was it that no one wants to get together
in real life anymore? It wasn't Facebook's fault; all those digital pals were better than nothing. For
chipping away at past friendships and blocking honest new efforts, you really have to blame the
entire modern world. People want to hang out with you, I assured myself. They just don't have the
time.

By now it was nearing midnight. My head was clouded by drink, and it was finally starting to
sink in: no one else was coming. I'd have to think up some other way to revitalize my social life. I
ordered one more drink.

The beer arrived, a British import: Young's Double Chocolate Stout. I raised my glass in a
solitary toast and promised myself I'd spend less time online. Then I took a gulp: the beer was
delicious but bittersweet. Seven hundred friends, and I was drinking alone.

CAPTION(S):

DRAWING (DRAWING BY HOLLY WALES)

By HAL NEIDZVIECKI

Source Citation (MLA 8th Edition)

Neidzviecki, Hal. "Facebook in a Crowd." The New York Times Magazine, 26 Oct. 2008, p.
114(L). Literature Resource
Center, http://link.galegroup.com/apps/doc/A187789925/LitRC?u=king56371&sid=LitRC&xid=f34
56f1d. Accessed 26 Aug. 2018.

Questions

1. Explain the irony and humour in this essay.

2. In the second paragraph, the author mentions reasons he had

fewer friends. Discuss these reasons. Are they common?
Is it hard to maintain a social life today?

3. How do you define friends? When are online friends real

friends?
4. Discuss the social commentary in this essay. Is it
exaggerated or a true depiction or life today?

5. Today our lives are dominated by screens. For instance, we

look at our phones instead of our companions. We view
scenery through our cameras. We text our friends instead of
talking to them. Discuss problems with living through
technological devices.