Facebook WAARGH

Facebook Consumer Strategies: Customer Retention Strategies

So I registered with Facebook under the sizzling alias "Wanda Wells" in order to peek surreptitiously at my friends' accounts and ask myself, "wherefore?". This I did, and a delightful ten minutes was spent. Immediately afterward, I located the "Deactivate Account" button. Click and it's all gone! No evidence I was ever there! Yarp?
Narp. Quoth Facebook:
"Please let us know why you are deactivating."

So I replied, by way of clicking the succinct little bullet option:

• I don't find Facebook useful.

"But wait," said Facebook. "You might find Facebook more useful if you connect with more of your friends. Check out our Friend Finder, or search for them."
I nodded. All well and good. But I still wasn't interested. I searched the bullet list for a more compelling reason to leave the site. Maybe Facebook would listen if I selected:

• I don't feel safe on the site.

How could I stay when my safety was potentially in jeopardy?
Yet Facebook had an answer. "You can alter your privacy settings to make sure you are more protected."
Oh. Er, thank you. Good to know, I suppose. But still,

• I don't understand how to use the site.

"A tour of Facebook may help clarify how best to use the site. Or email us with your questions. We'll respond within 24 hours."
Facebook really cared about me. It was so generous, offering me this network of support as I was lost, confused and alone in the webly wilderness. But still I didn't want to learn to use the site. I wanted to leave. How about if I just promised:

• This is temporary. I'll be back.

Facebook smiled upon me. "Remember," it said, "you can reactivate at any time by logging in with your email and password." It added, conversationally, "Just so you know, your admin status in any groups or events will not be automatically restored after activation."
Yet my email is still in the system? How could I ever escape? I needed my email address back. And so I told Facebook a lie. This isn't a betrayal. I'm not leaving. It's just that...

• I have another Facebook account.

Facebook said nothing. I waited, but there was no rebuttal. I'm free to go? I'm really... I'm free?
I clicked "deactivate". Wanda Wells was no more.

Sitting at my monitor, silently exhaling, in the moments that followed, I felt somehow empty. I had escaped, hadn't I? I had no more responsibility to Facebook. And yet I felt as though I had done wrong. I had turned my back on someone that cared for me.
Facebook's farewell page shone upon my downcast face. "Remember," it said, "to reactivate your account, simply log in with your email address and password."
My email address was still in there somewhere! All could be forgiven! All I had to do was enter my details... all I had to do was repent.

Facebook, I am still out here. Facebook, I am sorry.
Wanda Wells shall return.