The problem with talking about facebook is that it has to be with someone who cares. Cares, not only in the vague sense that facebook is what Mark's been pouring himself into the past few years, but cares for the concept of facebook altogether, a way of maintaining social webs and even of extending them, digital ties somehow stronger than those forged in person— at least, on average. All of those faceless names from high school, now they're practically unearthing themselves. But Eduardo's never cared about that in the same way that Mark has, as far as the latter can tell, and judging by the usership of facebook, it isn't too hard to imagine why that is. There's that pesky three-quarters of the country that hasn't bothered signing up for an account, and when you shave off the elderly and the overly young, the portion of young adults who avoid the site seem to be those who are perfectly content with the way their lives progress and social circles have been drawn. Eduardo's always been good at that. Making friends, keeping them; if it wasn't for Mark, he's sure that Eduardo would be president of the UC or something else equally as renown. It's only that old adage, the one that says you can measure a person by their choice in friends, that probably draws a berth around the other man now. What does being Mark Zuckerberg's best friend, former or otherwise, say about anyone?
Poor judgment.
But there's no need to harp upon Mark's absolute distaste for talk of facebook right now, not when there's a pretty decent burger that needs eating, and a dizziness that much resembles vertigo that Mark is keen on stamping out. And, apparently a girl in the works too, a fact that focuses his gaze. Some people raise their eyebrows, but Mark's true show of attention is a quality in his eyes, their color nearly darkened by the shadow of his brows as he tries to discern just what 'like' means here.
"Okay," he nods. "There's a girl named Olive. And you really like her. What of it? Co-founder of a billion-dollar corporation, that should get you pretty far right there." In the back of his mind, he can even hear Erica's disapproval. For now, he ignores that.
no subject
Poor judgment.
But there's no need to harp upon Mark's absolute distaste for talk of facebook right now, not when there's a pretty decent burger that needs eating, and a dizziness that much resembles vertigo that Mark is keen on stamping out. And, apparently a girl in the works too, a fact that focuses his gaze. Some people raise their eyebrows, but Mark's true show of attention is a quality in his eyes, their color nearly darkened by the shadow of his brows as he tries to discern just what 'like' means here.
"Okay," he nods. "There's a girl named Olive. And you really like her. What of it? Co-founder of a billion-dollar corporation, that should get you pretty far right there." In the back of his mind, he can even hear Erica's disapproval. For now, he ignores that.