I’ve long held to the belief that social media has signaled
the end of being social. It’s never more obvious to me than when I go out to
what used to be the main places to meet people: bars, restaurants and the
neighborhood coffee shop. Back in the day – a phrase I find myself saying
repeatedly, there was no other choice but to socialize with the outside world
and make a concerted effort to meet another person. Today, I’m sorry to report,
that the person who knows how to meet someone without the help of their smart
phone, laptop or iPad is as rare as finding a pink panda in the wild.
Case in point, this past weekend, I found myself once again
in Palm Springs, which has, over the last few years, become my favorite place
of escape from the madness of Los Angeles. There, amongst the palm trees, the
cooling waters of the pool and the refreshing endless cocktails – I use what
has always, until late, never failed me – my smile and what is left of my
outgoing personality. It’s become a fun game of sorts to see how fast someone
will scatter when met with a simple greeting and a flash of the results of
great dental work and flossing hygiene. Years ago I was quite adapt at
conversation and picking up a stray here and there, and yes, on occasion,
everywhere. But today, take a look around and you’ll see what seems like the
entire establishment on their social media device of choice even while hordes
of people surround them.
Granted, the Internet has given those painfully shy and
socially challenged people an outlet, but I can’t somewhere feel that it’s
given them a crutch that will always need to be at the ready. It was amusing
when I gave my business card to the good looking age appropriate man at the bar
this past weekend. He looked at it as if it were a foreign object that needed
to be disinfected. In his defense, I suppose people no longer hand out cards
and instead immediately exchange numbers via their phones. But, somewhere in
the devious corner of my mind – I want to test them to see if they’ll make the
effort of saving the card and dialing the number themselves.
Perhaps I’m too outgoing in this new world of texting and
twitter. Should I act the same in person as some of those profiles? Only talk
to those 5’11” or taller or demand to know what “scene” they’re into before I
invest any time on them?
“What’s your type?” a man asked me once after I spent over
half an hour talking to him and intermittently flashing my smile.
“I’m equal opportunity,” I said instead of answering the way
I wanted which was it was you until you acted as if you were typing on your
keypad and failed to notice how many times I flashed these expensive teeth. Did
you miss the fact that I offered to buy you a drink and you declined? He then took his leave, checking who was
closest to him in the vicinity of the bar on the latest gay app. A little extra
effort goes a long way - except it seems, in my direction.
It all makes me remember my favorite episode of Sex and
the City, “They Shoot Single People, Don’t They?” In synopsis, Carrie has a
magazine cover shoot that goes terribly wrong, as she’s photographed ragged and
puffy from a night out of partying. Elsewhere,
Samantha is horrified that she has been stood up in a restaurant where she is
forced to pretend her date is still coming. While Samantha can’t handle being
exposed as single in such a public environment, it’s Carrie, who at the end,
sits down at a sidewalk café and announces to the waiter, that, indeed, it’s
just her for lunch. No book, no magazine, no single armor - just a glass of
wine and the company of her own company. It’s the one episode where I am
Carrie.
To be fair, I’ve leaned on my phone to keep me entertained
while I’m enjoying a cocktail or two, but in my defense I still know how to
read a person’s body language. I can easily tell when the object of my affection
wishes he could block me as easily as he would delete my cyber greeting. It’s
amusing many times over – but on occasion gets a bit exhausting as I’ve paid a
lot to keep my smile fresh, white and straighter than I could ever be. It’s an
attribute that will always read better when face to face with it.
Once upon a time I used to believe I would meet someone in
the aisle of a grocery store – we’d reach for the same apple and the fruit
display would come tumbling down around us. I’d smile, pick up the rolling
granny smiths and offer to make him a pie. I even wrote a story about that –
but In the end, I recognize my own fiction from the truth that is all around me.
Yet, I remain ever hopeful that when I sit at the counter for a meal or enjoy a
beverage in a crowded room, that there exists one person who’ll log off their
app, walk across the room and hand me their business card.
