…but not just “friends” in that Facebook kinda way, since we’re all real, in-the-flesh, friends, some of us separated by some thousands of miles, but very real, first and foremost unFacebook friends, nontheless.
The distinction is important, mind you, because, well, I’m not really feeling this real, unFacebook friendship when you’re kicking my ass in Words With Friends.
Seriously! Have you no mercy?!
Are you so dissociated from your humanness, so distanced by the technology, so disconnected from our personal connection that you don’t see the malicious brutality in your relentless onslaught of 50-point triple word scores?
Do you never take pause to reflect on our relationship, all the years we’ve shared and the bonds we’ve formed, as you viciously play words you’ve excavated from the bowels of the Oxford English Dictionary, words that were actually only ever used by just one person, one time, by some clerk in the offices of the British Philological Society, and probably a typo to boot?
Must you sadistically flaunt your ability to look at a scramble of random letters and somehow magically see all the words that can be formed from those letters by rearranging them in a particular variety of orders?
Have you no compassion for people like me, holders of Bachelor of Arts degrees in English with corresponding extensive vocabularies, who can only access a small, low-point-value subset of those vocabularies when staring at those scrambled letters, hour after hour after hour?
And you wonder why days, sometimes weeks, pass before I make a move, and now, with the latest Words With Friends feature, you “nudge” me to make a move after five days have passed, as if my struggle weren’t obvious enough?
Well, “friends”, I’ll let you in on a little secret.
During those days and weeks of waiting on me, I’m not just stumped, I’m taking stock and considering one of the most difficult decisions we humans face in these digital times of ours: to quit or not to quit, forever.
Oh, don’t even think of coming at me with the tired old “it’s just a game” line. You know damn well that this is nothing less than a battle for my self-worth.
(Pause. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.)
Ok, so, I won’t quit. Even if you assure me that it’s ok if I do.
Because, I’m man enough to admit that I’d miss all the sarcastic chat we exchange. It feels good to call you bastards when you score 75 points in one move.
Oh, and if I quit I’d have significantly less reason to use my iPhone, which is just incomprehensible to me.
So, for now, unscramble this!