Why Bloggers Disappear
Riiinnnnngggg.
Riiiinnnnnggggg.
“Mmmphh. Hello?”
“Bob? Bob, is that you?”
“Alan?”
“Yeah, listen. I uh, I just needed to talk to you for a sec. You awake?”
“Alan. Man, I can’t believe it’s you. But it’s like four a.m. here.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, you know that thing with the blog, and the month off and everything? I’m losing it. I mean, I had to quit, you know? I was never sleeping, I was just commenting and replying, commenting and replying, all the time. It got so bad, I just never went to bed. I’d reply to a comment and as soon as I hit “Post” there would be another one. And then there’s the witty banter, the innuendo, the double, triple, even quadruple entendres! I mean – that’s a lot of shit to live up to! It’s like I’m always on. It was sucking up all my resources, all my good stuff was being wasted. I mean, not wasted, you know…just…”
“Look. Alan, it’s good to hear from you. I’m glad to know you’re okay and everything. I guess. I mean, you’re okay, right? I’m just not sure where you’re going with this. I’m a little confused.”
“I need a favor. It’s not much, it’s just that you’re the only one that I think can pull it off.”
“Uh…well, what is it?”
“I need you to tell them I’ve been abducted by aliens. Or I’m dead or something.”
“What in the hell are you talking about? Alan, are you seriously okay? Are you alone? Is there someone…”
“I know, I know. It sounds crazy. I just can’t stop myself! And then I was thinking, maybe if everybody just left, I could quit. I thought I could do it. Really. But then I started making up aliases and doing it anyway! Half the comments in my thread are me!”
“Half? Really? I figured maybe 10% or so, but…”
“Look! I’m dead serious. I can’t get any real work done and I have bills to pay! I’ve lost thirty pounds because I’m so keyed up I can’t eat. It’s just a small favor, Bob. Remember I did all that editing for you last year? Do me a solid.”
“A solid.”
“A solid. I swear, I won’t need you again. Not like this.”
“I don’t know, Alan. This is all a little weird. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Hey, uh…Bob. I’ll call you back, okay? Just um, come up with something, and we’ll go over it together to make sure it goes over just right.”
“Is that your keyboard I hear? Are you commenting right now??”
“Bob, dammit! Just do it. I’ll call you in a couple days.”
Click.
You serious? Is he okay?
Why yes, I’m absolutely serious. That’s why this is tagged with “imagined conversations.” Because I take my imaginary conversations quite seriously.
Sorry, just having fun. As far as I know, good ol’ Alan Truitt is alive and well. Somewhere. Maybe a nice, quiet, internet-disabled detox somewhere.
Ladies and gentlemen it is with deep sadness I report the abduction of Jennifer by Gay Martian Elvis Impersonators. She was last seen at the Starlight Café Twittering on her phone. My last text from her follows “My God. These creatures subsist on ramen noodles, Oreos and cat brains. RT @….”
I think I just found my replacement!
Alan is always calling me at 3AM and wondering why I don’t answer. I see he finally found someone else to carry out his plan.
Thanks for the namecheck… Just called you 23 minutes ago.
I’ll try again…
So, I’m calling…
Pick up…
Still ringing…
It’s brilliant
It’s sublime
It stops on a dime
It’s all jelly true
So Truitt it’s woo hoo
Fundamentally too!
…Although, I do remember the conversation a bit differently… (Not that I was there, it appears I’ve been abducted by aliens…)
Alan knocks on FJ’s door. He then pounds on it. No response. He begins kicking the door. Finally, FJ answers.
Alan: How’s it going, buddy?
FJ: Sorry? What?
Alan: You awake?
FJ: No It’s 4:am. Alan? How did you get here?
Alan: That’s not important.
FJ: I think it is.
Alan: You up for a beer? I am. Got any in your fridge?
FJ: What?
Alan enters the house.
Alan: I know, it’s just, you know that thing with the blog, and the month off and everything? I’m losing it. I mean, I had to quit, you know? I was never sleeping, I was just commenting and replying, commenting and replying, all the time. It got so bad, I just never went to bed. I’d reply to a comment and as soon as I hit “Post” there would be another one. And then there’s the witty banter, the innuendo, the double, triple, even quadruple entendres! I mean – that’s a lot of shit to live up to! It’s like I’m always on. It was sucking up all my resources, all my good stuff was being wasted. I mean, not wasted, you know…just…”
FJ: How did you find out where I lived?
Alan: It’s a funny story. Anyway, I need a favor. It’s not much, it’s just that you’re the only one that I think can pull it off.
FJ: Uh…well, what is it?
Alan: It’s nothing, really. I just need you to tell everyone I’ve been abducted by aliens. Or I’m dead or something. Maybe go with something. Yeah, tell them I’m something.
FJ: If I do will you leave my house?
Alan: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. By the way, did you now that “me” is an IT worker in England? .
FJ: I didn’t. So… Alan. This is all a little weird. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Alan: I’m great. Can I use your computer? This exchange of ours has been fun and I need to blog about it. Even though blogging is so… Well, you know.
FJ: I know Alan, I know…
The lights in the room flash. Enter The Ghost of Freud. Alan and FJ look on in disbelief and stupefied amazement.
Ghost of Freud…wait!! Did I miss a sexual reference?
*Yawn.*
Oh, hullo!
Did someone say “sexual reference?” I must have nodded off for a bit. Did I miss anything?
I’ll have to see if I can catch up. I’ll deal with you, Alan and FJ, when I have my wits about me.
Thirty pounds? you should be marketing this addiction!
I know the pressure sure got to me. Why, I almost hung up my old laptop and my old self. I’ve decided that in order to continue I must become more streamlined in both my comments and responses. We all must! It’s the only way we can survive as a species. That and valium!
wow, I’ve been in hiding as well, though nowhere near as long as Alan. And not really for blogging reasons, but that’s beside the point. I want to join in the drama. In my case it was really scary. An Islamic site picked up my blog and I feared for my life.. branded as an infidel or maybe a hussy and stoned in the streets?
Thank god I have connections, Salman has been nursing me through this period!
Alan, if things continue to go awry for me can I come to your planet? I have a passport.