Tom Oatmeal is a writer who has contributed to places like TomOatmeal.com. He lives in Los Angeles and is a diehard fan of that local game where they run around like bozos and make it score. Take care!
I saw you last Saturday at that bar, “The Darkroom,” but when you told that guy your name, I was just out of earshot and missed it. Lauren? Christina? I don’t know. I tried to steal a glance in your purse when you were paying your tab, but I didn’t see anything and next thing I knew, you were gone for the evening. Ugh! I should’ve just introduced myself!
Oh well. The next day, I managed to obtain a printout of the names scanned into the ID reader by posing as law enforcement. Using that, I plugged the female names into a Facebook search, which yielded several hundred results. I scoured thousands of pictures on there, but didn’t see anyone that looked like you.
Is it possible you have an icon as your profile photo? Are you listed as a skateboard, a baby, a cake, a shoe, a silhouette of a lamp, Miles Davis, a pear, or “Theodore” from “Alvin and the Chipmunks?” Let me know.
My official job title is “Social Media Rock Star.” When I tell people that, I also tell them that I’m not kidding; it really is my job title. If they say that they “heard me the first time” or that they “didn’t think it wasn’t my job title,” I just say I know and that I thought I saw them make a face or shrug in a way that implied that maybe they didn’t believe me.
But really, it is my job title.
I work for a New Media Marketing company. It’s not like the boring jobs my friends with houses have back home. It’s much more fun and laid back. My job requires me to be an expert on Facebook and Twitter. How cool is that?
When I interviewed for the position, I wore jeans and a t-shirt. That’s why I got the job. I also got the job because I’m smart. There was another guy interviewing for the job and he was wearing a suit. I was like, “Hey, nice suit man! What, are you going to a suit convention or someplace that requires a suit?” I didn’t say that, but I was thinking about it for a pretty long time.
Later, when I was driving home I thought, “Hey, nice suit man! What, are you going to a funeral?”