Facebook owes me a new girlfriend!

Have you seen that movie yet about Mark Zuckerberg, the guy that founded Facebook? I haven’t yet, but I’m going to.

I’m hoping at some point during the film they’ll give out his address. I need to get hold of him.

He owes me a girlfriend.

The girl I’ve been seeing off-and-on for the past year is “off” again and it’s Zuckerberg’s fault. No, she didn’t leave me for him; far as I know, they’ve never met, even on Facebook. But he’s responsible for our recent split all the same.

OK, maybe I’d better back up.

I’ve had a Facebook page for a couple years. My daughter helped me set it up shortly after the Former Lovely Mrs. Taylor lit out for parts unknown. For a long time, I couldn’t see the point of the thing, but Facebook—as regular users of the site already know—draws you in as surely and inexorably as a siren’s song draws sailors to rocky shoals, and with pretty much the same results.

A few months ago, I introduced the Facebook experience to my then Significant Other, who took to it like a squirrel to acorns. Within days, she had posted photos, a profile, lists of her favorite music and stats about her education, hopes, dreams and the names of every cat she’s ever owned.

Every morning she would check in with Zuckerberg’s creation to see which of her “friends” had slept well, eaten a big breakfast, had a case of the “Mondays,” or liked a hilarious YouTube link. You know, the kind of stuff you just can’t live without knowing.

Most importantly, she would check to see what I had said to my Facebook friends.

Aware she performed these daily checks, I was pretty careful about what I said. You’d never find me posting anything about women being “difficult,” “unfathomable,” or “plumb crazy.” Likewise, I never implied life with my Significant Other was anything but pure Nirvana (the state of being, not the band).

Then I put up a page for my little weekend band and all hell broke loose.

The band page didn’t contain anything objectionable, but in posting it, I—apparently, though I have no idea how—updated my “profile.” Now, I didn’t change anything in my profile; it remained the same as it had been for two years.

But it did state I was interested in a “relationship” with a member of the opposite sex. That bit of information had been in there since I posted the page and I’ve never thought about it at all. Certainly I wasn’t looking for a relationship, not since meeting my S.O. about a year ago.

At any rate, my S.O. noticed I had updated the profile, checked it, saw the offending checkmark, and managed to work herself into a bit of a snit about it. No amount of pathetic explaining or nauseating whining on my part would assuage her discontent.

Even changing my profile (intentionally this time) to reflect my “off the market” status failed to satisfy her (though, admittedly, by the time I did this I was acting pretty snitty myself). Things escalated from there and we decided to part ways before shots were exchanged.

So I’m a lonely bachelor again and far as I can tell, it’s Zuckerberg’s fault. There are millions of eligible girls on Facebook. He’d better find me one before I find him.

More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.