There is an obvious contradiction here. Facebook is the main reason you don’t go out and meet people any more. And even when you do, their phone is out every five minutes, so they can post a photo of their lunch. But Facebook has one thing going for it. People you vaguely knew in college. We call it PYVKIC.
You will get a lot of friend requests from PYVKICs. You will reject most of them. That’s OK. We understand why you don’t want to meet up with Dessie again. The last time you saw Dessie, he was wearing a tutu in a kitchen in Harold’s Cross, singing along to ‘ I’m horny, horny, horny, horny’. We’re all trying to put that behind us now. Especially Dessie.
Just like you, he has probably lost contact with a group of people who were once known as ‘the lads’. As Dessie was browsing through Facebook one night, overcome with nostalgia and cheap Shiraz, the social-network site suggested your name as someone he might know, so he fired off a friend request.
And you ignored him. This is crazy. You shared some of the key moments in your life with Dessie and PYVKICs. There is every chance you lost your virginity to one of them. (If only you could remember which one. Things got so hazy after the freshers’ ball.) The PYVKICs know where all your exes ended up. They know what really happened that time Monica spent three hours in the professor’s office. (The rumours were true, and then some.)
So go on. It’s time to put the past behind you and say yes to Dessie. Arrange to meet him for a drink, at least. You walk into that pub and recognise him immediately. Mainly because he is up on the bar shouting his way through Come on Eileen. Jesus, Dessie, things haven’t been the same without you.