My server wants to be my Facebook friend.
Yes, you read that correctly. My server wants to be my Facebook friend.
As in, my server at the restaurant I ate at last night.
With a girlfriend (and not a husband).
Where the service and food was tip-top (red pepper crab bisque...mouthwatering).
Where I completed the survey (with my name and address) and left a generous tip (with my debit card that also has my name on it).
Because the service and food was tip-top.
Not because I'm on the market.
Because I'm not.
And now Drew wants me to confirm his friend request.
Who's next? The UPS guy? I gave him a muffin when he dropped off my wheat grinder and a box of cookies when he delivered my bottle of eXfuze.
I don't care what Kip says, this technology stuff is getting out of hand.
Maybe I can go back to the rotary phone and pretend Al Gore never invented the internet.