What if Facebook was a bar…

FB cafeWhat if Facebook was a bar, a bar to which you’d be the rightful owner? For shits and giggles, Zuckerberg would be your barman, interior decorator, marketing manager and doorman.

First off, my bar would serve the greatest Whisky, Scotch and white wines for my lady. Then, the beers on tap would consist of only the finest craft brews. Muskoka, Surly, Sawdust, Trou du Diable, St-Ambroise, GLB, Rogue, Central City, Deschutes, Beaus, Brooklyn, Goose Island would all be available… I would also have a few European gems like Orval, Westvleteren and Hacker-Pschorr.

For the sake of this exercise, let’s create a character named Willy. Let me tell Willy how his bar would be.

Your Facebook bar would be painted white and blue. Dozens or even hundreds of pictures of your kids, your meals, your Halloween costumes, dog, car… all would crowd these very walls while in some corner that no one ever pays attention to, would be a shelf unit with your favourite books, movies and bands.

Who would hang out in your bar?

I’m guessing your brother(s) and sister(s), along with a handful of close friends would be regulars, but for the most part it would be populated with co-workers, cousins, aunts, previous colleagues and high school buddies you either cared for a great deal or not. Inevitably, some representative from Chrysler whom for some God awful reason you decided to allow in your bar, would go around and tell everyone about the new Caravan and all of its delightful features, as if we gave a damn.

“Oh no, here’s that guy from Dyson, is he going to talk to us about vacuum cleaners again?”

It’s pretty safe to say that your ex girlfriend would drop by from time to time. She’d sit in a remote corner and keep a vigilant eye on your every move and every girl you talk to. Other more distant exes, would show up one time, only to satisfy their curiosity and find out what they missed out on, or quite the contrary, find comfort in the fact that you got chubby or lost your hair. Your ex-sister in law, recruiters or jealous boyfriends would stand outside, peek through the window and try to get in but Zuckerberg doubling as a doorman, would ask you to confirm their request to enter.

“Who? Don’t know him.” But Zuckerberg wouldn’t turn them away, he’d just leave them standing there wondering if their friendship will ever be accepted.

There would be a room in your bar with video games that you don’t care for and never really asked for. A handful of patrons hanging out in this room would walk up to you from time to time and ask that you join them in… “the room”.

“Hey Willy, wanna play Candy Crush?”

“Ah, thanks but no…”

“Okay… What about now?”

“No, it’s really not my thing…”

“Ah, that’s too bad. I think you’d really like it, maybe later then?”

“I don’t think so…” They’d walk away.

A short amount of time would go by and sure enough that very same person would walk right back only to ask…

“Willy, want to play Candy Crush?”

“I SAID NO MAN! NO. And if you keep asking I’ll throw you out of my bar. Are we clear?”

“Okay, okay. Well, can you send me some lives?”

“Are you freaking kidding me? OUT!”

Your Facebook bar would be set up like an open-mike night formula, worst… karaoke. There would be a stage with a microphone, a screen and a projector and because it’s your bar you would be the host and moderator. You’d get up and share thoughts, feelings, photos, videos, and keep us in the loop on the arrival of baby or your job. In respond, some of us would rush to the stage to add a comment or simply “drink to that” or cheer as a means of saying like.

“Hi everyone, I just wanted you all to know that my heart goes out to the victims of the tsunami in China… God help them”

I guarantee you some of your friends would roll their eyes while a few would “drink to that”.

“I agree so much with you Willy. So painful to watch” would add Susan.

Moments later, another person would get on stage…

“Hi Will, I found this video of us when we were kids… we looked so silly”

“Ah, thanks so much” you’d respond

“You guys look great!” would add your uncle while a shit load of folks would “drink to that”

We need to consider the elite crowd. The voyeurs. They’d be the ones sitting there, never taking to the stage, never cheering anything. They’d just sit there in silence, exchanging messages and whispers about the activity going on in your bar.

“Pst, what the hell is she doing? Such a looser” one would whisper

“I know eh? It’s fucked up how self-absorbed these people are” another would respond clandestinely.

The evening would progress as such where you’d share pictures of last night’s apple pie, footage of your kid’s ice bucket challenge and kittens sleeping in slippers. Some of your friends would find the kitten footage to be so cute, they’d run out of your bar to go to their bar, get on their stage and tell everyone about the kitten video…

“A friend of mine showed me this last night at his bar, I just had to share it with you… aren’t these kittens the cutest?”

In this ocean of madness someone would walk by and… poke you. What the fuck?

I don’t know how long any of this would last, but I’m guessing 30 minutes of this and people would be drunk, miserable and start leaving. You’d be in the bathroom throwing up all the shit you “drank to” and of course, you’d call it a day.

“Zucky, we’re done for the night. Lock up please, I’m not feeling well. I’ll be back tomorrow morning around 8:30 before I start working again…”

“Goodnight Willy”

“Good night Facebook” You’d walk out thinking… “Man, I gotta sell this bar, why am I doing this, why do I always come here?”

(thanks to Skyscrapercity for the Facebook café image)

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