They must have read my books. How else could they possibly have known that I’m a lonely language teacher with a serious wine and women condition?
Well, according to Facebook, “We show you ads we think you'll find interesting based on these types of information: the things you do with Facebook; info we get from others; (and) info from third parties.”
So, that’s alright, then. I guess it was only a matter of time before I would be called to order for clicking on that “Like” button every time I looked at a photo of my nephews and nieces. But let’s just have a closer look at those “personalised ads” again, shall we?
Meet fellow Brits in your city! I’ve already met him, actually. His name’s John, and very nice he is too. Or is there a third Brit lurking in the bowels of our village that neither John nor I know about?
Master in Bilingual Education? OK, so which Facebook “friend” has been spreading it about that my teaching techniques could do with a little polishing up? They’re absolutely right, of course.
Meet single mothers! Well, I suppose it would make a nice change from meeting stressed mothers, angry mothers, worried mothers, anxious mothers and, come to think of it, not-yet-divorced mothers. But why single mothers, and not single ladies? Where’s the attraction in adopting a screaming stepkid into the bargain? Sounds dangerously like a Nick Hornby novel to me.
English speaking rehab in Spain? Great idea! Except that’s precisely what I’ve been doing for the past 30 years. Maybe what I need right now is Spanish speaking dehab in England?
Free dates and chat! Here they go again, trying to find me somebody to talk to. At least, they don’t limit my options to single mothers this time. But why does Facebook and indeed the entire world always assume that we want more friends, more conversation, more social life, etc? I don’t know about you but, personally, after 12 ear-battering hours at the office, the absolute last thing I want to do when I get home is carry on chatting. Quite the opposite in fact, but will they let me drink my beer and read the paper in peace? I think you already know the answer to that one.
Having run 25 miles up and down corridors every day for the past 25 years, Colin was delighted to discover that he was in far better shape than he had ever imagined; or looked. Eat your heart out, Dustin! Indeed, it was one of life’s best-kept secrets that most teachers – lazy sods excepted – are Olympian athletes just waiting to be discovered. That said, most of them would rather be left alone to finish their pint in peace.
dayrealing, Chapter 41, “Don't Fear The Reaper”