Yo! I'm Brian! If you text me, I'll text you back immediately, but in my hurry to respond, I might accidentally snap a picture of my cock and send it to you. That cool?
If you're the type of person who responds to any kind of message quickly, with little to no lag time, bless you. You are doing the work of whatever style of god you believe in. You are quelling the social anxieties of the people on the receiving end of the message. You are a massage therapist kneading out the knots in our needy brains.
We all have our own version of the lag time between receiving a message and replying. There's just no way of knowing who has a good response time at the onset of any kind of relationship. It's all trial and error, with a healthy dose of frustration and paranoia. Did she read the text and choose to respond later? Is she willfully ignoring me? Does he hate me? Should I kill myself now? What if I kill myself, and then, like, two seconds later, she responds and agrees that yes, Bill Paxton and Bill Pullman don't look alike, but they look exactly alike?
Jason Merritt/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty Images and Larry Busacca/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty Images
They're both a blank canvas on which to create a more appealing white guy.
The wait for something triggers our stupid insecurities, allowing us to fill the gap of not knowing with wild fear-based speculation. Exchanging average message response times along with contact information when we first meet would help us relax a little after firing off an important email. Message-induced panic attacks are the most hopelessly pathetic types of panic attacks. They're also unavoidable. It would be like the time window cable installers give you for when they'll be at your door: It might not be 100 percent accurate, but it's in the ballpark.
Hi, my name is Amanda, and on Facebook I mostly post a lot of BuzzFeed quiz results. I'm Finnick from the Hunger Games, Slimer from Ghostbusters, and a sandwich from food.
Ah, if only we were able to get a full, unadulterated understanding of what we're getting ourselves into when we accept a friend request or click "follow." Be they whiny, preachy, or spammy, the digital version of someone you meet may not be someone you want to deal with when you flick through your feed for some mindless faux-interaction with friends. They can even be shitty to follow but a pleasure to be around.
Whatever the reason, a few weeks after you had a pleasant conversion with someone at a party and they sent you a friend request in return, you have read enough of their posts to understand that their online persona is hot garbage baking in the sun, and everyone they associate with who posts a reply is a rat feeding off their sweltering trash rot.
For some of you, it's like looking in a mirror.
You can unfriend them or hide their posts, but man, it would have been nice to find this shit out at the start. No one wants to discover through social media that someone they associate with is a racist or spams links to their kale recipe blog. It's like finding out your goldfish died through a Post-it note left on the fridge. It's an impersonal disappointment.
A quick one- or two-sentence summation of who you are online could move the refining and polishing (or utter destruction) of a friendship up from months to the first day. Imagine being able to unfriend someone on Facebook before you've friended them. It's a friendship fast-forward button masquerading as a sentence.
For more moments we'd like to avoid, check out The 11 Most Awkward Moments Imaginable.