Diary of a Social Media ‘Twunch’

11 Feb

My friends, today I was taken to lunch by a ‘social media technologist / theorist / disruptor / change agent / planner / unplanner’ called Marque.

Yes, Marque.

‘Mark?’ I said.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Marque.’

Here’s how it panned out.

12.30 pm

Walk into restaurant called ‘Cube’ or ‘Mulch’ or ‘Blob’ or something. Tables seemed to be white squares with lights in them. Seats are futuristic wooden shapes.

12.34 pm

Fall off futuristic wooden shape.

12.35 pm.

Fall off futuristic wooden shape.


Fall off futuristic wooden shape.

12.37 pm

Develop technique for sitting on futuristic wooden shape that involves gripping table very hard at all times with both hands.

12.38 pm

Marque asks the first difficult question of the day. ‘Dave, tell me – is your brand a conversationalist or a conservative?’ I pretend to be studying the menu (which is printed on a chopping board – the wine list comes on a roll of wallpaper) and buy 30 seconds before saying, ‘Pardon?’

12.40 pm

Order three bottles of claret and four WKDs. Marque has a salad. ‘To drink?’ I ask. ‘There’s more than enough water in fresh vegetables, Dave,’ he chortles back, as though I’m doing something wrong by drinking heavily at lunch time. Marque asks the difficult question again.

‘I think…my brand…is…well, it depends what you mean by ‘conservative”, I say, hopefully.

‘Great point, Dave,’ he replies.

Breathe sigh of relief.

12.41 pm

‘I suppose I mean post-90s traditional. You know, conservative with a middle-sized C’

Suck sigh of relief back in again.

‘Tell me more,’ I reply, waving my arm for the wine. ‘Where the fuck is that waiter?’

1.15 pm

Marque finishes a confusologue on the emergence of post-Web 2.0 conservatism and the conflict it has caused in the ‘brandosphere’. I have finished the first bottle of claret. Burp.

We are served our first course: a sharing mezze of charcoal, carbuncles, gelatinous goos of all shades, micro-lettuce (or something), I’m guessing…badger cocks and, I dunno, pickled jizz.

1.35 pm

Marque asks the second difficult question. ‘Do you know what I can do for your brand?’

This stumps me completely. I’ve finished the second bottle of claret, so I go for honesty. ‘Mark…I mean, Marque, I have absolutely no fucking idea.’

He replies with the third difficult question of the day. ‘What would you say if I said I’m all about conversation conservation?’

Our main courses arrive at this moment. I’d asked the waiter for ‘the biggest thing you serve’, so he brought out some demi-cow you’re meant to share (pah!) while Marque gently nurses some chick peas. Luckily, the arrival of the food means I can just get my head down and grunt occasionally (which I do when I’m eating anyway) and let him get on with things. When I look up and wipe the blood and gravy off my face, shirt, arms, kness and shoes, he’s stopped. But he’s looking at me like he wants an answer.

‘Well?’ he says.

I think for a moment. Then I let out a belch like the klaxon on Satan’s own battleship and say, simply, ‘Cunts.’

He nods in agreement and carefully forks a chick pea into his mouth. ‘Cunts’, he repeats. ‘You’re not wrong.’ Then he is lost in a thought for a good five minutes, and by the time he returns I’ve finished the third bottle of claret and he’s itchily talking about train times back to Oxford.

‘You go,’ I say. ‘I’ll see you next time.’

Then settles the bill (including the twelveteen brandies I hastily order) and is gone.

2.00 pm

Coffee (with a dash of scotch). Freedom. An absence of deep anxiety. A girl, walking past with a beautiful, carefree expression. A thought: life without social media is better.

I am Dave Knockles. And I got a free lunch!


5 Responses to “Diary of a Social Media ‘Twunch’”

  1. David Everitt-Carlson February 11, 2011 at 5:20 pm #

    I dunno Dave, so far I liked ‘I Am The Client!’ much better. Yes, narrowcast maybe, but I thought the voice developed there was working perfectly. It was a world just small enough to make that maniac you created really work. This isn’t hitting me yet, but I’ll keep up for a while…

    • daveknockles February 11, 2011 at 5:57 pm #

      Fuck me! Who are you? The Yank correspondent for the Times Literary Supplement?

      I ain’t charging for this, you shithouse! If you want beautifully crafted characters, read fucking Dickens!

      That said, I hope you continue to read. Even if you are a total cuntbottle.

  2. Rob Hatfield February 11, 2011 at 7:51 pm #

    Dave! So glad you are back! I had almost stopped checking on you. Cheers!

  3. Billy February 14, 2011 at 7:45 pm #

    Haha Dave, your reply was too funny. Keep it up man, you’re the last prick on earth to show the cuntbottles the way to true enlightenment.

  4. Jim February 16, 2011 at 9:40 am #

    Too funny. Too true. BTW No cheese board?

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