That's What Friends Are Forriasharon
Remember in high school when you’d drunk dial some boy? If you were smart, you’d hang up before he (or his parents) picked up and you made a total fool of yourself. Caller ID put an end to that, thank goodness.
Remember in your first post-collegiate corporate job when you first had access to voicemail and the day after the company Christmas bash was spent sneaking in and out of cubicles to snicker at voicemails colored by the previous day’s boozefest?
Remember the early days of Facebook when people didn’t know (especially when they were hammered) the difference between the status update bar and and the search bar, resulting in the name of whoever you may be stalking at the time appearing as your status update at least until you got a sobering text from your BFF?
Oh joy, we have so many ways to connect and express ourselves! It takes half a brain cell to tweet or share or post or text or comment or DM or email. Unfortunately, none of these vehicles pre-qualify which half a brain cell is “driving the car” at the time of said tweet, post or text.
Cecily did a nice round-up of celeb “Tweetdowns” — that’s the term I’m coining as of today! But c’mon, how many just regular ol’ bloggers have you witnessed go down in a blazing ball of glory because they. just. couldn’t. NOT. push. send.
Not unlike high school, when I found myself in the unenviable and uncool role of designated driver, I recently found myself in the role of designated tweeter. But instead of having to say, “Hand over the keys,” I said, “Hand over the Twitter and Facebook passwords, my friend. I’m cutting you off.” And just like that, I helped a friend save themselves… and their online brand.
So can you. Do you know someone who needs a social media intervention? Friends don’t let friends tweet while drunk, stoned, or desperate.
photo credit: stock xchng