Someone left bottled water for our village, and now people on Threads hate me
My own personal Watergate
On Sunday morning, we woke up to find that someone had left a large palette of Scottish Water branded bottled water in the car park of the village community centre, without any explanation.
Well, naturally, the village Facebook page was instantly abuzz with speculation. What was the water for? Who had left it there? Did this mean we should expect an interruption in the water supply for some reason, or did it mean that, I dunno, we should perhaps be preparing for the literal apocalypse?
OK, I jest: no one thought the apocalypse was approaching. Not even me. As I prepared for our planned day out with friends, though, I discovered that my author brain could just not let this idea drop. Because, even though I knew perfectly well that there would be some dull, water-pressure-related reason for the presence of the palette, it struck me that a mystery supply of bottled water appearing without explanation in a rural village would be a pretty good opening scene for a disaster movie, in which the village in question is about to be plunged into some kind of DRAMA — the first sign of which is the unexpected appearance of emergency water supplies.
OK, this sounded a lot more intriguing in my head than it does written down. I can see that now. Nevertheless, it felt like the kind of thing the good people of Threads might find vaguely amusing, so I picked up my phone and typed out a quick post on my way out to the car.
“Scottish Water have left a large palette of bottled water in a car park in our village,” I wrote, attaching a photo of the palette in question. “So naturally we’re all now preparing for the apocalypse.”
It was supposed to be a lighthearted joke — not the kind of HAHA joke that would have people rolling on the floors, obviously, but, you know, just a kind of mildly interesting scenario that might get me a few likes, if I was lucky.
But I was NOT lucky.
What happened next, in fact, is a perfect illustration of literally EVERY SINGLE THREAD I’ve ever posted that has gained more than a couple of hundred views, and the reason you should hope to never, ever go ‘viral’ on social media.
So here we go: the eight stages of every single even semi-’viral’ Thread…
STAGE 1: RADIO SILENCE
The Thread is posted. No one responds, because obviously no one is interested in my stupid photo of a palette of bottled water. God, this is awful. What was I thinking? Should I delete it? Maybe I’ll just delete it…
STAGE 2: POLITE INTEREST
The post garners some responses from people who have both read AND understood it. These are people who get that I am not being serious when I say the village is preparing for the apocalypse, and they respond in kind, with amusing suggestions as to alternative reasons for the presence of the palette.
This is great. Love this for me. I wonder what I else I could write a Thread about? I wish someone would leave MORE mystery objects around the village!
STAGE 3: GENERAL INTEREST
The post attracts the attention of a wider group of people, many of whom have taken it completely literally. Some reply with serious, but well-meaning suggestions of other ways our village should prepare for the coming apocalypse (Filling baths, stockpiling groceries…), while others seeks to reassure me that there is probably a simple, non-apocalyptic explanation for the appearance of the bottled water, as if I could not possibly have worked this out for myself, and had genuinely taken some time out from running around shrieking ‘the end is nigh!’ to post a photo on Threads.
One person earnestly entreats me to make sure I look out for vulnerable seniors during this time of crisis. They say this in a scolding tone which strongly implies that they know perfectly well that, in the event of the oncoming apocalypse, I would be the kind of selfish waste of skin who would think only of myself.
I begin to feel vaguely patronized, and to worry that maybe I’m not as competent a writer as I thought I was, if the ‘LOL, looks like the start of a disaster movie!’ tone I thought I had taken, has genuinely come across as ‘The End of Days Approacheth’.
I’m starting to experience a twinge of anxiety every time I get a notification that someone has replied to my Thread. However, the thread in question has already racked up thousands of views, and looks like it’s starting to go viral. This makes me feel special and important, so I decide to put up with the occasional odd comment. For now.
STAGE 4: MEN enter the chat. They will now mansplain my own post to me.
One man sneeringly points out that the palette in my photo is not, in fact, ‘a large palette’, as I have described it, but simply ‘a palette’. If I was clever — like him — I would have known this, but alas, I am but a silly girl, who doesn’t know her palette sizes. I feel thoroughly put in my place.
Another man observes that I’m clearly trippin’ if I think this single palette of water will save us now. Because it won’t, OK? It’s clearly ridiculous to suggest that this bottled water will be of any use at all in a crisis, and if I wasn’t so stupid, I would know this.
I hate this place.
STAGE 5: PALETTE DELIVERY DRIVERS ARRIVE
They are able to provide their expert analysis of how, exactly, the palette may have been delivered. All hope of my initial post being seen as a ‘joke’ is gone. I have lost control of the good ship ‘Amber’s Thread About The Bottled Water’.
She’s goin’ down, folks.
STAGE 5: AN UPDATE
I attempt to wrestle back control of the Thread by posting an update to say that there is still no explanation for the water, but, on the plus side, there is no apocalypse either, so yay! I attempt to write this update in a lighthearted tone which communicates the fact that I did not actually think the end was nigh, while also clearly signaling that the conversation is now over as far as I’m concerned.
But it is NOT, in fact over.
I don’t know it yet, but all hope is lost.
STAGE 6: AN ARSEHOLE ARRIVES
An account representing a modeling agency discovers the Thread. Whoever is running this account will now make it their sole mission in life to TAKE ME DOWN, because this is, apparently, a good use of someone’s Sunday.
The person behind the account (Henceforth ‘The Arsehole’) begins firing questions at me.
How do I know it was Scottish Water who delivered the water, if there’s ‘still no explanation’? I DID say there was ‘no explanation’ didn’t I? DIDN’T I?
I don’t actually know ANYTHING AT ALL, do I? I’m basically just running around posting photos I know NOTHING about. WHO DOES THAT?
Why would the fact that Scottish Water’s branding is on the water mean that Scottish Water must have delivered it? It doesn’t, does it? DOES IT? So why would I say that? Isn’t that a totally WILD claim to make? On the INTERNET?
The Areshole is like a dog with a bone. He (for I am sure it was a ‘he’, don’t ask me how I know…) might not know me, but he clearly knows that I am The Very Worst Person In All the World, and now he will prove it, by relentlessly hounding me until I admit that I’ve just made the whole thing up.
Within minutes I hate this person more than I have ever hated anyone in my life. I’m in the car now, on my way to have a relaxing day out with my family and our closest friends, but I am wholly prepared to tell my husband — who is driving — to PULL THE HELL OVER, because someone on the Internet is WRONG.
Interestingly, this is probably also what The Areshole thinks about me. But I don’t care. I have lost all sense of reason. I will now drop everything and dedicate the rest of my life to proving that I was RIGHT to say it was Scottish Water who delivered that palette. And that it WAS large. Ish. As Taylor Swift once didn’t say, “I’ll tell you something right now, I’d rather burn my whole LIFE down, than let this one guy on Threads thinks he’s won…”
I begin typing out a long response to The Areshole. It takes the form of a bulleted list and explains that:
Scottish Water have delivered palettes of bottled water exactly like this one to our village before, quite a few times, actually.
They’ve done this because our water pressure is rubbish and they’re our water supplier, so it’s their job to provide us with water. It’s nobody else’s job to supply our village with water, so it seems unlikely that anyone else would take it upon themselves to do so, and for no apparent reason.
When Scottish Water have delivered water in the past, they’ve always delivered this exact amount, to this exact location; the only difference this time was that they didn’t tell us in advance that they were going to do it or — crucially — why.
Scottish Water are the only people who have access to water with this particular branding. It’s not for sale in stores, so if it wasn’t them, it would’ve have to have been someone who’d stolen it from them, and why would someone steal a palette of water and deliver it to a random village without explanation?
All of the above factors lead me — and the rest of the villagers — to strongly suspect that it was, in fact, Scottish Water who left the palette of Scottish Water, and not someone just pretending to be Scottish Water, while leaving a palette of Scottish Water.
IT WAS SCOTTISH FREAKING WATER, OKAY?
Having typed all of this out, it then occurs to me that I’m arguing with an asshole on the internet over bottled water, so I delete it, and just write, “Yeah, ya got me: I made it all up.” Then I add the eyeroll emoji, just to be sure he gets the message.
I’ve now been staring at my phone for so long in a moving vehicle that I arrive at our destination feeling carsick.
I hate everything.
STAGE 7: SELF-DOUBT / EXTREME OVER-THINKING
I wander around South Queensferry reflecting sadly on the fact that, in spite of everything in the bulleted list I didn’t post, I don’t ACTUALLY know for SURE that it was Scottish Water who left the palette, do I?
Maybe The Arsehole is right? Maybe I AM the Very Worst Person in All the Land? I mean, not only did I name Scottish Water without establishing beyond doubt that it was definitely their water, I also straight-up LIED when I said the village was preparing for the apocalypse. I mean, NO ONE was preparing for the apocalypse. Sure, quite a few people were worried that there was possibly something wrong with the water, or that the supply was about to be disrupted, but that’s not really the same thing, is it?
God, I hate myself. I should never have posted that stupid photo, should I? Or, if I did, instead of that one line of of hyperbole about the apocalypse, I should have said something like…
“An unknown source has delivered a completely normal sized palette of bottled water — most likely using a forklift, although it could also have arrived by van — to our village. The water has Scottish Water branding on it, but we cannot assume they delivered it, even though they are our only water provider, have done this before, and are the only known source of this particular bottled water. No one thinks the apocalypse is coming (except perhaps that one guy at number 43 who thinks the earth is flat) because that would be ridiculous, but if it does, we will of course take steps to ensure the water is distributed first of all to our elderly and infirm residents, while not being stupid enough to think this will save them, as they should have started preparing for this months ago, by stockpiling food and filling their bathtubs with water. However, a more likely scenario is that our water supply is either a) contaminated, b) about to be disrupted, or c) fine, but a marathon is about to pass through the village, and someone has thoughtfully provided bottled water for the participants.”
But that’s just not as funny, really, is it?
STAGE 8: EVERYTHING IS AWFUL
I check my phone a few minutes later, and find that The Areshole is still trying to argue with me. I attempt to diffuse the situation by asking if there’s a particular reason he’s found my photo of the water so triggering. He says, “No, but imagine claiming someone did something when you have absolutely no proof?”
I’m tempted to reply with, “Imagine spending your Sunday morning being a dick to someone on the internet because they posted a photo of bottled water on Threads”, but in the time it takes me to think of this, two more people comment, one saying that me and Areshole are as bad as each other, the other saying that if I’m wondering why I’m getting such weird responses to my Thread, I should “take a look in the mirror.”
Instead of replying again, then, I delete the Thread, which has, at this point, been live for less than an hour, but which has nevertheless somehow attracted several thousand views, and completely destroyed my already fragile self-confidence.
And all of this over a stupid photo of bottled water.
Minutes later, a migraine starts.
*
I’m not exaggerating (much) when I say that almost every Thread I’ve posted that’s been even mildly ‘successful’ in terms of views has followed roughly this pattern. The arguing. The pedantry. The mansplaining. The suspicion. Everything has the potential to be controversial over there. Everyone is angry. Even a simple, one-line post will be picked apart and used as evidence of the author’s apparent awfulness.
So why am I still there?
Er, good question. Dunno, really. I think it’s because most of my Threads don’t go ‘viral’, and the ones that don’t sometimes get nice, normal responses, that remind me that not everyone on the Internet is straight-up awful. And when it’s good, Threads is really good. It has an algorithm that still aims to show you content you’re actually interested in (rather than just endless ads), and it’s where most of the author/Swiftie people I follow like to hang out these days, so, as long as I’m not posting controversial photos of bottled water, it’s fine. Most of the time.
Oh, and we never did find out why the bottled water was left in the village car park.
Er, anyone want to follow me on Threads?
I’m honestly stunned at how the internet has exposed the number of people with zero sense of humour and a lot of time on their hands; they’re obviously scrolling, scrolling, scrolling just to find ANYBODY to argue with. Though saying that, I should be more tolerant really as I’ve heard of this before: I think they were born with a condition where they have an excess of the pedantry you mentioned. They have to expedite it daily or their nervous systems will shut down. I think the condition is called Pendantriosis Arseholis, it’s very common among middle aged men and women who want to see the manager. Shame, because they lack the ability to appreciate your fabulously entertaining writing Amber (unlike me and so many others). We’re very lucky we don’t have that awful, debilitating condition x
Oh god, Amber, how awful. I’m not on Threads much so I missed it. Why are people so unnecessarily mean 🤷🏻♀️