"I need Justin's screenname. Granted, it's been three years
since Justin and I have exchanged anything more than an
awkward greeting while passing each other on Jamestown Road,
but it is imperative that I contact him now. No, I cannot use
any of the many online or human resources at my disposal to
relocate his contact information. He and I must speak
immediately regarding a very pressing issue involving us
both. I really need to share with him a 'You Know You're a
William and Mary Student if...' list, and so-and-so's
livejournal posting mentioned him, and he just has to
receive this mp3 file from this Indie-Gay-Irish-Punk-Rock
band I discovered."
Not gonna happen.
Does Justin even know your last name? Are you completely
certain his name is Justin? Was it maybe Johnny or James or
Michelle? Drats. And who the hell is SocWM06? Let's gather the
facts: expected graduation in 2006, shares your alma mater,
and likely studies Sociology. Great! You've narrowed it down
to 62 candidates. You may as well stand in Morton Hall with a
small sign, hoping to draw the individual out much like a
chauffer receives a rider at the airport. You have a few
options here.
1. Message the hook. "Hi, I completely forgot who you
were or never valued you as a human being enough to recall
what your screenname signifies in real life. Could you please
remind me?"
SocWM06 has signed off at 10:40:26 PM
It's safe to say that, according to your records, SocWM06
will not be signing back on.
2. Inquire with friends as to who the hook is. Way to
be weird, buddy. You'll expose yourself for the addict you
(and let's face it, all of your friends) are. Public
awareness of your condition will lead to embarassment and
you're not yet certain that Mr./Ms. SocWM06 is worth it. For
all you know it could be that creepy girl in your morning
class that always holds eye contact much longer than is ever
proper and makes her sentences ramble on for an average of
fifteen seconds each. Too risky.
3. Facebook the hook. Your secret's safe with us.
Thanks to blessed internet anonymity and the advanced
facebook engine, you can proceed to input your clues and
scroll through the dozens of returns to cross-reference the
screenname. Time-consuming, but she/he will never know you
even researched her/him. Good for Sociology majors, but a dead
end for grad students, Math Majors or people whose lives have
meaning and legitimate social outlets. Always give this one a
shot before proceeding to scenario four, but be certain to
minimize the window should anyone else enter the room.
4. Delete the hook. Be realistic. It may be Justin, it
may be the real-life Fat Mouse, it may be a cyberstalker who
creates misleading identites to lure out young adults for
supposed sexual encounters ending in death and dismemberment.
It's safe to say that this screenname will do you no good.
All you can do is follow the away messages posted, click on
the various links to appear in its profile, and take note of
any structural changes to the screenname itself. Are we
adding a capital letter or an extra space today? Better keep
that name saved so you can find out!
We collect these identities like butterflies, saving them for
no function whatsoever beyond aesthetics. A long buddy list
with an exceptionally slim scroll-down button pleases the eye
and feeds the ego. Yes, you may be alone on a Friday night
because you were stood up by a friend, but at least you have
143 people you could, in theory, message. That means 143
different away messages describing all the fun you're not
currently having, or all the social events you can awkwardly
crash, with everyone knowing you only found out because
stupid Justin leaked information to you through instant
messenger. Face it: no matter what your motives are in
storing every screenname you encounter indefinitely, they do
you little good in reality if you don't actually have them
for the intended purpose of a messaging system. Trim
back your acquaintance list and behold your improved,
efficient, and less pathetic buddy list.
Sean Conner is a staff columnist for the DSJ. His views do not necessarily represent those of the entire staff.