Old Jim hovered in the doorway of my office, clutching his coffee mug.
“What’s up, Jim?” I gestured for him to enter.
“Can you answer a question about The Facebook?” His brow furrowed as he took a seat.
I suppressed a laugh. “It’s just Facebook, no the.”
“Whatever it’s called!”
“How can somebody who’s not your friend can message you? And how the hell can they find you?!”
“It depends on your privacy settings. Maybe your daughter tagged you in a photo or something, then they saw you through there.”
“That’s the thing — this woman ain’t even my daughter’s friend!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Facebook stalking you, Jim?”
Old Jim shifted uncomfortably. “This woman claims we went on a date back in high school ‘n’ I don’t even know her!”
“Ice cold!” I shook my head. “Dumped her after one date and don’t even remember her.”
“I messaged her back sayin’ that she probably told me to hit the road after that time. She gave all these details about the date, too. Shit was fifty years ago, Sam!”
“She’s been holding the torch for you all this time.”
“I sure hope not! I checked out her profile ‘n’ she’s divorced.”
“Maybe she’s going back through her Rolodex or whatever y’all old folks use to keep people’s contact info.”
He huffed, pretending to be offended. “You know I’ve got an iPhone for that!”
“Better warn the wife — this woman’s on a mission.”
“She just wanted to catch up!”
“She did mention that she’d be in town next month.”
“Are you gonna see her?!”
“Exes only creep for one of two reasons: to make themselves feel better upon seeing your life is in shambles or to see if they can get back with you.”
“I should just go off the grid like Dusty.”
“I’m sure there’s room in his post-apocalypse bunker for you.”