As a reckless avenger of all things fun, I have pursued a job in the bar industry for many moons. This may seem to be a handshake with minimal repercussions, though I can assure you, it’s much closer to the fire than you would believe.
Through all the peculiarities of alcohol abuse and too-loud music, I have begun to wonder what it really is that makes a successful social media blueprint. Is there is a connection between the nightclub and the online entity businesses all crave; both of which hinge on the inescapable allure of social ease.
I can damn well assure you that there is nothing easy about either.
The mavens and mavericks of the social media world would have you believe in the infallibility of authenticity, communities and advocates.
The bartenders of the club world would have you believe your pockets are deep, you wordplay brilliant and your charm endless.
The irony is not as forward as you may believe; though showy defiance, tall-talk and lack of planning will get you hurt, in both regards.
I would love to extol all things social media, as they makes us more human, but all actions should be bound by virtue. The more people escape their real selves, be it through alcohol or a keyboard, the more annoying they become.
Good intentions don’t make the road wider, as life is not a simple foray. Assuming you can muster up an idyllic (online) presence through a few clicks, or beers, masks a real problem: you may be in the wrong place, hanging out with the wrong crowd, or just be straight-up awkward.
I have come to applaud the effort, but rue the course. Just because you hang out on Twitter, does not mean I want to follow you. Where is the value for me when you view me as a number of followers?
Keep pressing that bull-horn while I disdain your presence; you’re the one at the bar snapping your fingers and pointing at me while I’m obviously busy.
As valuable as these brand touch-points are, they do not excuse you from being a real person. Nor does a few drinks and a bad suit.
The take-home on this delightful post is that the weakness of (online) interactions comes from the inability to be yourself. I don’t want to be friends with your logo, or in the bar sense, your low-cut top. You should shine through, otherwise, you mine as well leave your dancing shoes at home.
