Denial By Denying

Facebook is a philanderer's dream. (OK the posts last week from some anonymous train passenger who'd lost her patience with the philandering co-passenger who was evidently rambling endlessly about cheating on his unsuspecting, unoffending wife, whose intellect he described most unflatteringly, which bore his secretively photographed, cheesy face with its muscle-head demeanor, and which outed him as a loud-mouthed, sleazy braggadocio, to the entire Facebook community, notwithstanding.)

Certain privacy settings allow you to be notified by email if you are tagged in a post or a picture.  It allow you to view the post of the picture and accept (so all your friends can see it) or not (and only the post-er's friends will see - be careful when you have friends in common...)

Scott has his settings set to be asked. Primarily because his young daughters had become accustomed to tagging him in posts that were hilarious but made him look like an ass.

"LOLing with my Dad at fat people making their 10th trip to the buffet at Szechuan Luau."

Or

"Someone farted" accompanied by a picture of him and one of the dogs, both making a face, and the culprit not distinguished. 

And rather than going onto FB and reviewing the posts all the live long day, he'd just deny them. Let their friends laugh. No harm, no foul.   He'd routinely deny all the posts and photos, except the one I'd posted with pictures of him night surfing or on his Harley, because they made him look cool. Probably really cool to the GED certificate holder from UPS.

So if you were, say, the bench-pressing Amazon from the NFL, or the minimum wage earning divorcee Drill Team Queen, then you'd have no idea that I was in Scott's life...at least lately. At least since the Drill Team girl called him on my being ever-present on his page.

I guess she'd taught him a lesson in more than one way. If you want to pretend to be single and available on Facebook, you need to appear to be single and available. You can't look married and expect to score. Duh.

But alas, I didn't learn this lesson until very late in the game. My cousin had pointed it out to me. She'd thought it was an indication that something had changed. Something had gone wrong.

And they had. I just couldn't see it from my Facebook page.