“Don’t I Know You From the Internet?”

A Less Awkward Etiquette for Meeting IRL

I spend a lot of time wrapped up in a strange and impossible calculus, trying to describe the realness of the internet in the terms of an allegedly more real offline world. By now I’ve accepted that there’s no good direct comparison, but that doesn’t reduce the appeal of broken axioms like the internet is a library, the internet is a subplot, the internet is a utopia, the internet is a delusion, the internet is a lively discourse in the public square, et. al. When it comes to negotiating the relationship between online life and off, I waver between stressed-out emotional wondering, and exhausted agnosticism. After basically growing up online, I still have no idea what the internet actually is, but in the places where it butts up against so-called real life, I can see for sure that what happens in cyberspace extends beyond just fantasy.

For a while, the prospect of meeting a person from the internet felt wildly improbable and dangerous. In the era when I could still estimate my daily time spent online with relative numerical accuracy, a person inside the internet felt less like a person and more like the vague and looming threat of the shopping center kidnapper or the mean older kid who forces younger kids to try weed in the lot behind school. Sometime recently, around when it became more likely that I’d count up the time I spend offline, people on the internet began to feel closer. By now, maybe half of my good friends were initially sourced from the web, mostly via Twitter. In the past few weeks I’ve been traveling a bunch, and in each new city I get dinner with total strangers whose names I recognize, but only when prefaced or followed by @. These online to offline conversions can be delightful, or at the very least value neutral, but they always begin awkwardly with all parties struggling to assess the appropriate levels of enthusiasm and familiarity. For some time, I thought the reliable awkwardness of meeting “in real life” had something to do with generational social deficits, or the inherently lesser value of online interactions. Perhaps this truly is the case, but it doesn’t really matter because the fact remains that meeting people from the internet will probably be a regular thing from here on out. Thus, in an effort to rid this new reality of its creepy or awkward connotations, I propose a standardized etiquette for a few common URL to IRL social situations:

Meeting an Internet Friend for the First Time In Person

The present moment did not invent the correspondence-based friendship. Certainly, in other eras, pen pals exchanged letters, and an internet friend who you’ve never met is not all that different. Two of my friends, one in Chicago and one in LA, have FaceTimed regularly for over a year now, but still haven’t managed a face-to-face meet. When they do finally get together, it will be willfully ludicrous for either to pretend to not already know a good deal about the other. That said, a friendship that plays out through compartmentalized digital missives will almost certainly differ in nature from a friendship built organically IRL, and so some small accommodations can be made to ease the transition. Before your first meet-up, tell the other person what you’re wearing specifically in order to avoid a case of mistaken identity. When introducing yourself for the first time in person, use a standard introduction like, “Hi, I’m Jamie, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Be sure to say your name aloud in the event that the other person has been grossly mispronouncing it for the duration of your correspondence.

It might help to ease any awkwardness if, in advance of your meet-up, you tell your new friend some information about your day. When making plans, you could say something like, “I’ll meet you for coffee after I pick up my new glasses,” and this way, your friend can use the information as a bland but effortless inroad to more substantial chatting about your offline lives. Resist the urge to make unsolicited observations about the difference between your friend’s online and offline persona. It’s likely they will look, sound, or act differently than you expected, but bringing this to light might lead to unnecessary self-consciousness. If your friendship survives beyond this first meet, there will be plenty of time to reminisce about first impressions.

Meeting a Stranger You Follow (Who Does Not Follow Back)

Following is a one-way investment on lots of sites, which means at some point it is likely that you will run into someone who you follow online who does not return the favor. This type of an encounter can create a weird power dynamic in which you know something of the other person’s life, but they may not know you exist at all. In such cases, the person in question is usually a friend of a friend, or someone who otherwise inhabits your shared sphere of interest. The best way to reduce awkwardness in this situation is to avoid cageyness and be genuine and forthcoming. Say something like, “Oh, you’re Tim’s friend. I’m Jamie, I actually follow you on Instagram. It’s great to meet you.” Volunteering this information will help you to avoid the stress of needing to pretend you know nothing of the stranger. The other person will likely respond awkwardly, or feel pressure to feign modesty, as most people are not accustomed to being recognized in the manner of a celebrity. To put everyone at ease, steer the conversation away from social media by asking something like, “So how did you end up at this party?” Do not feel dismayed if the other person does not follow you back on social media the next day. We have not yet worked out culturally what it says about a relationship to follow, and it may be the case that you and your recently-met stranger do not share the same understanding of the act.

Meeting a Stranger Whose Name You Recognize

Occasionally it is the case that you will come to meet a person whose name you have seen on the internet, but who you do not follow or otherwise engage with on social media. If this is the case, it is best to proceed as strangers in earnest. Admitting to another that you’ve seen their name online will usually lead to a tedious explanation of distant connections, which will bore you both to death. At some point, you may even back yourself into the corner of needing to explain why you know they exist, but do not deem them worthy of your valuable follow. Avoid the potential discomfort of this situation by engaging as you would with a total stranger. If you eventually find yourself in an enjoyable discussion of mutual friends, you can always backtrack later and remark something like, “Oh yes, I thought your name sounded familiar!”

Meeting an Internet Celebrity

Internet celebrity may or may not be a valid concept, but the odds are at some point, you will meet someone who you personally regard as an internet celebrity, whether you want to or not. This person may have thousands or tens of thousands of followers on a social network, and as a result you might find it difficult to escape the suspicion that their life is somehow more glamorous or interesting than yours. Before making your introduction, take time to consider the fact that the currency offered by internet celebrity has extremely limited value in a person’s day-to-day life. Let’s say ambitiously that someone has 100,000 followers on a social network. This is about the same amount of people who visit the Mall of America on a typical day. How many people do you know who have even visited the Mall of America this year? Obviously, the internet celebrity in question has some currency in your social or professional universe, but they probably enjoy next to no special treatment when they’re out and about buying groceries with the unwashed non-web famous masses. In your introduction, approach the person in question with the attitude that your lives are more similar than different. If it seems like it would be weird to ignore that you’ve heard of the person before, offer a genuine and not overly fanatical compliment like, “Hi, I’m Jamie. It’s great to meet you. I really enjoyed your latest single.” The person in question is probably used to being recognized in some social setting, and will likely respond humbly with enthusiasm. If they respond rudely or seem to have an ego about it, take comfort in the knowledge that they are still less popular than a mall in Minnesota.

Meeting a Stranger with Whom You’ve Argued Online

The internet is a great place to argue, and so eventually it is likely that you will meet face-to-face a person with whom you’ve exchanged harsh online words. If the dispute was not personal in nature, it is probably best to avoid reopening the wound. Avoid pettiness and introduce yourself warmly. The stranger will likely remember your spat, and if it’s grounds enough to make further friendship undesirable, you can go your separate ways without ever bringing it up. If the offense was personal in some way, or if you were the one who did the offending, you can exchange brief and polite apologies, or simply avoid interacting altogether. Keep in mind that tone and intention are difficult to discern online, and so the offending party might actually be quite lovely in real life. That said, you are in no way obligated to engage them. Stay busy in the kitchen helping the host, or immerse yourself in conversation with another party guest who seems less annoying.

Meeting an Asshole

Sometimes people are unfettered assholes, online and off. If a person has harassed, bullied, deliberately irritated, manipulated, or otherwise fucked you over, feel free to tear them a new one in whichever way you please, whether via cold shoulder or humiliating shouting match. It is unlikely that it will be this person’s first time on the receiving end of such an exchange.

The arrival of a social protocol for the digital age — such as the one presented here — represents a sort of sadness, because it means that the vast imaginative potential of the internet is already being folded full-steam into normative institutions, etiquette not exempt. Good manners can be a sort of sinister thing, used to police in-group/out-group politics, and to reduce the wild variability and discomfort that makes life exciting and generative. Certainly, I’d like for the internet to remain some kind of untamed Fluxus dinner party, where everyone fucks indiscriminately, plays noise music, and eats pasta with their toes. That said, all the supposedly uninhibited and free-spirited subcultures that I’ve ever tried to join have been even more bogged down than usual with arbitrary, covert, and exclusive norms, and so I present this etiquette guide as the least bad version of an even greater bad that will inevitably formulate itself if we do not take time to formulate it first.