This just in: Those hundreds of people you friended on Facebook freshman year? Yeah, you’ll never talk to them again…

by Katherine Schloss

You’re walking through the “morning fog.”(1,2,3) Suddenly that fog clears, and just as you start admiring the phallic imagery of the regal Campanile, a familiar face appears before you. 

Is that? No. Wait… oh no: you definitely don’t remember their name. Are they from GBO? That one day of rush you went to? Did they flyer to you on sproul? Sweet talk you into signing something for CALPIRG? Out of the 30,853 or so students (one drops out every time a toilet refuses to flush in Moffit), you seem to be charmed with the honor of running into Facebook friends of meet-and-greets past. 

“Hey you!” (start with a vague greeting that is friendly but not too overbearing). Then the conversation becomes a barrage of vague questions. “How was your summer? Did you go home? What’s your major again? Have you seen those caterpillars around? Isn’t it crazy how they get stuck in your hair?” You try not to be too put-off by the fact that they know where you lived freshman year, or that they remember “that one time” you were drunk and did “that funny thing” on a table, or that they can list all of your best friends by name. Your strongest contribution to the conversation is, “What’s your favorite font?”

Then, like a lighthouse in the fog, you see that you’ve both somehow reached the Dino Man in front of Sather Gate. It’s enough of a distraction for you to slip into the sea of flyers before being hit by a rich international student floating through the crowd on their motorized skateboard. Karma's a bitch, but you’re still gonna continue to blast people with those connection requests on Linkedin. You’re a professional now, and you’re not going to see any of those Facebook friends again anyhow. A swig of Yerb and you’re on your way, ready to take on the world of screenagers.

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1 You’re physically foggy because you got sexiled last night and woke up at three am on the couch just to itch your eye with a finger covered in Trader Joe’s fake taquis
2You’re mentally foggy because you’ve spent the past couple of days frantically creating a quizlet for that anthro class that you haven’t been to since the second day of lecture and are trying to cram your brain with various specificities about ape skulls
3There also happens to be a fog surrounding you that rivals that of Karl across the bay