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The Poke War
It starts off so innocently, with the simple act of a poke. In the real world, the simple nudge with an outstretched digit would cause little to worry about. You’d probably forget it moments after it happened. The Facebook poke is a whole other kettle of fish.
First, why has this person poked you? Is it a playground dating ritual, similar to the little boy pulling the hair of the little girl. Or pushing her in the mud. It just means he likes her. Perhaps the poke is a friendly gesture, a cheery wave to get your attention. Maybe the person is bored. Or they don’t really know what a poke is and you are their guinea pig.
Whatever the reason, you poke back. A little out of curiosity and a little out of common courtesy. You wouldn’t leave someone hanging if they went to shake your hand or give you a high five.
But next time you sign in, there it is. A small message that spells doom for your sanity. “So-and-so has poked you. Do you want to poke back?”. And unlike the real-world equivalent, you cannot forget about this poke. Because that message is always there to remind you. It just sits there, ferreting its way into you subconscious until it gets the better of you and you click yes. Yes you do want to poke back. Why the hell not?!
Soon it becomes second nature to ‘poke back’. You log in, poke back, check messages then get on with whatever work you were just procrastinating from. It becomes a way of life. But the act of poking is a never ending cycle: you poke them, they poke back, you poke them, ad infinitum. You can’t stop, because you don’t want to ‘lose’. You don’t even know what you would lose, only that you’d lose it.
Going back to the playground metaphor, you is very similar to an old childhood argument:
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
And this goes on until one child hits the other or the school bell rings. But there is no school bell in life. Only death, and do we really want to be poking into our 70’s, 80’s or when we receive our telegram from the queen?
The solution is simple. Below I have provided a message to copy and paste. When someone pokes you, simply send them this message. I promise you won’t have trouble with poking again.
“Dear Sir/Madam (delete where applicable),
I was born with a rare condition know as micro-tendonitis. In layman’s terms, it is an illness that seriously affected my extremities as a young child. In my teens, I lost use of my fingers and later had to have them amputated to stop further spread.
Now a fingerless person, I take great offence to your ‘poke’. I understand that you may have meant it as harmless fun, but it has hurt me considerably. Whilst I will accept a written apology this time, I must warn you that any future jokes about fingers will be met with a lawsuit.
Yours truly,
[Whatever Your Name Is] ”
Good luck in your poke-free world.
:D
First, why has this person poked you? Is it a playground dating ritual, similar to the little boy pulling the hair of the little girl. Or pushing her in the mud. It just means he likes her. Perhaps the poke is a friendly gesture, a cheery wave to get your attention. Maybe the person is bored. Or they don’t really know what a poke is and you are their guinea pig.
Whatever the reason, you poke back. A little out of curiosity and a little out of common courtesy. You wouldn’t leave someone hanging if they went to shake your hand or give you a high five.
But next time you sign in, there it is. A small message that spells doom for your sanity. “So-and-so has poked you. Do you want to poke back?”. And unlike the real-world equivalent, you cannot forget about this poke. Because that message is always there to remind you. It just sits there, ferreting its way into you subconscious until it gets the better of you and you click yes. Yes you do want to poke back. Why the hell not?!
Soon it becomes second nature to ‘poke back’. You log in, poke back, check messages then get on with whatever work you were just procrastinating from. It becomes a way of life. But the act of poking is a never ending cycle: you poke them, they poke back, you poke them, ad infinitum. You can’t stop, because you don’t want to ‘lose’. You don’t even know what you would lose, only that you’d lose it.
Going back to the playground metaphor, you is very similar to an old childhood argument:
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
And this goes on until one child hits the other or the school bell rings. But there is no school bell in life. Only death, and do we really want to be poking into our 70’s, 80’s or when we receive our telegram from the queen?
The solution is simple. Below I have provided a message to copy and paste. When someone pokes you, simply send them this message. I promise you won’t have trouble with poking again.
“Dear Sir/Madam (delete where applicable),
I was born with a rare condition know as micro-tendonitis. In layman’s terms, it is an illness that seriously affected my extremities as a young child. In my teens, I lost use of my fingers and later had to have them amputated to stop further spread.
Now a fingerless person, I take great offence to your ‘poke’. I understand that you may have meant it as harmless fun, but it has hurt me considerably. Whilst I will accept a written apology this time, I must warn you that any future jokes about fingers will be met with a lawsuit.
Yours truly,
[Whatever Your Name Is] ”
Good luck in your poke-free world.
:D
1 comment:
“Dear No Sure,
I was born, a long time ago in a planet far far away, with a rare condition know as micro-tendonitis. In layman’s terms, it is an illness that seriously affected my extremities as a young child and affected my ability to rub sticks together to create fire and hunt Dinosaurs. In my teens, I lost use of my fingers and later had to have them amputated and eaten to stop further spread.
Now a fingerless person, I take great offence to your ‘poke’. I understand that you may have meant it as harmless fun although I doubt this, but it has hurt me considerably. Whilst I will accept a written apology this time, I must warn you that any future jokes about fingers will be met with a lawsuit, although it is accepted that I may have to wait many years until your bank balance contains enough money to make it worthwhile.
Yours truly,
Dad
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