Unfriended

“Hi, I just wanted to message to say I’m really upset you have unfriended me on Facebook.”

There was no answer at first.

Two hours later.

“I just don’t think we have much in common.”

“How can you say that? We both liked that post about growing up in Manchester in the 70s.”

Three hours later.

“Which post was that?”

“The post with the buses on. The old buses that we used to have in the 70s. You must remember them. The old buses. You liked that post.”

“Did I?”

“Yes you did. And you liked that post about Kate Bush. I used to love Kate Bush.”

“I wasn’t a fan of Kate Bush.”

“But you liked the post.”

“Maybe I did. I preferred Debbie Harry. She was hot. Did you actually post about Kate Bush?”

“No. It wasn’t my post. We both liked it. But you did like my post about On The Buses.”

“What?”

“The other day. When I said I was watching a DVD of On The Buses. I said it was my favourite TV sitcom from the 70s and I posted about it. I put up an image of the DVD box. You liked that post.”

“That show was rubbish. Sexist. Racist. Complete rubbish.”

“I thought it was quite funny. I liked it when Olive and Arthur were in bed together. And I liked it when Jack was flirting with the clippies. And when Stan was rude to Blakey.”

“Why do you like that rubbish?”

“It was funny. Not like today with cancel culture and everybody too scared to say anything because somebody else will get upset. In the 70s people could say what they liked. The comedy shows were more honest. More down to earth.”

“Are you surprised that I unfriended you? You just talk rubbish.”

One hour later.

“Do you think I should get a subscription to Netflix?”

“If you like.”

“Do you think I should get BritBox?”

“If you like.”

“I might get Disney plus or Paramount plus? Why do they all have plus at the end?”

“If you want to get them, get them.”

“I know you can watch some shows for free on You Tube but that’s not the same somehow. Oh, I’ve just seen a post about Benny Hill on Facebook.”

“Why do you spend so much time on Facebook?”

“That’s not the point. Anyway, I don’t spend all my time on Facebook.”

I turned off my computer and went for a walk. It was just starting to rain so I popped into my local charity shop. They were always friendly to me in there.

“Hi, have you got any new DVDs of 70s TV shows?” I asked the manager who was behind the till.

“If there are any new ones, they will be out on the shelf. You know where they are, don’t you?”

“Yes. I wondered if you had got any that were in the stockroom and that you haven’t put out on the shelf yet?”

“If there are any new ones, they will be out.”

“Oh…do you want me to help out with anything?”

“Not today.”

“Maybe tomorrow?”

“No, I told you that we don’t want you to do any more volunteering here. We don’t want you back. I’ve made that very clear before. We don’t need you.”

“Do you think I should get a subscription to Netflix?”

There was no answer.

“OK. I might go and check some of the other charity shops then. For DVDs.”

I left the shop but I didn’t go to any of the other charity shops. I was walking along the street when my mobile rang.

“Hello, I’m calling from the RNLI.”

“Who?”

“The Royal National Lifeboat Institution.”

“Hi.”

“You’ve very kindly donated money to the RNLI before and we are ringing you today to see if you would kindly consider making another donation.”

“Oh great. Thanks for calling. Can I ask you, do you have Netflix?”

“Er, so the reason that I’m ringing today is to ask you to make a donation. The RNLI is the charity that saves lives at sea. Supported primarily by kind donations from people such as your good self, our search and rescue service has been saving lives for 200 years. We are a charity founded upon our values of selflessness, courage, dependability and trustworthiness, with volunteers at our heart. Values shared by generations of supporters like you who have supported our lifesaving work through your kindness and generosity for 200 years.”

“That’s interesting to know.”

“As you probably know, the vast majority of RNLI people are volunteers - ordinary people doing extraordinary things - supported by expert staff, all working together to help communities at home and abroad save lives. But they need financial support to continue carrying out this vital work.”

“I see. What about BritBox? Do you have BritBox or Paramount Plus or any of those other streaming services?”

“I really need to know if you are interested in making a donation today?”

“I used to volunteer for a charity.”

“Really?”

“I used to help out at my local charity shop. Helping to sort through the donations. I know it is not exactly the same as being a lifeboat man but it is similar, isn’t it?”

“We do need to know if you are interested in very kindly making a donation today?”

“What do you think of Facebook? What would you do if somebody that you knew well suddenly unfriended you?”

There was no answer.

**********************************************

A day later. I was back on the computer.

“I used to love those old buses.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“The ones that we had when we were growing up.”

“Stop going on about them. They were just buses. Don’t make such a big deal about them.”

“Why have you unfriended me?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. It matters to me anyway.”

“I’m very sorry you feel that way. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just didn’t think it would bother you.”

“OK then. I still can’t believe it. You can’t unfriend me. After all, you’re my brother.”