So I used to be friends with this guy on Facebook. He worked, for awhile, as a dishwasher at the Restaurant of Doom (at which I am still currently, tragically employed), until he was fired. Yes, he was fired as a dishwasher–because he decided that it would be a better idea to go be an extra in a play for one night than to show up to work.
This young man, amazingly, is twenty-three years old. Awesome.
So after he was fired, he added me as a friend. I never particularly cared for the guy, and his profile picture showed him holding a newspaper that happened to be on fire, but I added him anyway, because I’m a pushover. He tried chatting with me on FB a few times, made awkward attempts to ask me out, didn’t take my hints (e.g. “oh, why don’t you give me your number?”), and just generally hung around being annoying.
And then, I pissed him off. And he deleted me–and then blocked me. Oh, the injustice!
I decided to take a series of screenshots of our lively debate and post them here, because, well, I just don’t like this guy. My name is obscured in red, Pepper’s in yellow, and the fired dishwasher’s in blue; the excellent article that instigated this cramazing argument can–and should–be read here.