The Luv Doc: Facebook Official

Dear Luv Doc,
So, I was seeing this guy for about a month right before SXSW. It was understood we wouldn't see each other much during the Festival as we would both be very busy. We fell out of touch for a few days and, next thing I know, he is in a Facebook relationship with some chick he met in the whole four days we went without texting! Am I wrong for being stunned / feeling owed an explanation?
– SXSWTF?

OK, that shit is just wrong. You don’t go FBO after four days. That’s not a relationship, that’s a PR campaign. Here’s the message of that PR campaign: Homeboy is a douche. Seriously, Facebook official is pretty much a sad attempt at territorial boundary pissing in the first place, so marking that dirt after four days is a definite indication of some deep-seated insecurities. You have a right to feel stunned. You dodged a goddamned howitzer. Buy yourself a pitcher of margaritas and celebrate.

And yes, he might owe you an explanation as well, but do you really want one? Do you really want to hear why this guy felt it was important to get the message out on social media that he scored some strange at a festival? Bravo, good sir. We are all impressed that you barebacked your FBetrothed in a porta-potty next to the McDonald’s “Fry-Fi” food truck, but that, like chlamydia, is not a post-worthy accomplishment. At best, it’s worth a Snapchat or maybe a PSA from the CDC.

Every year thousands of relative strangers hook up during SXSW. No big. Miller Lite binge drinking alone could account for half that figure. There’s also the fact that everybody at SXSW just assumes everybody else has a suite at the Marriott when the actual truth is they are couch surfing with their second cousin in suburban Pflugerville or packed into a single at the Residence Inn that has all the comfort and amenities of the Amistad. Nonetheless, after standing on their feet all day drinking promotional booze and listening to insistent, throbbing rhythms, people naturally want to go somewhere and get horizontal.

In fact, I bet if you hit the stairwells of the Hilton with a fluorescent lamp after SXSW, they would look like a Jackson Pollock painting. Right now they’re all probably “closed for maintenance” and some poor bastard in a hazmat suit is down there with a pressure washer spraying off the potential progeny of America’s hipster elite. Again, no big, but there is a reason garage stairwells aren’t carpeted – all of which is to say that, rather than finding his soul mate, more than likely your boy just gave someone an easy excuse not to have to take the slow bus back to Pflugerville.