I joined Twitter in April 2007, a year after its founding as a “microblogging platform.” I didn’t give much thought to my username. At first blush, Twitter looked like a place I shouldn’t be seen, like a strip club, so I chose an anonymous handle that combined my middle name and birthdate: @page88. I didn’t expect I’d be stuck with it for 15 years and counting.
When I learned that Twitter contacts were called followers, I found the notion cult-y and unnerving. My first tweet, “If they follow, will I lead?” got no likes.
For two years, I mostly ignored Twitter. Then, in 2009, at the South by Southwest tech conference, in Austin, I thought I saw its purpose. Conference insiders used it compulsively, especially to plan bar meetups. When in Rome. I sallied forth, seeking a companion to go with me to see Metallica at a 6th Street club. Again: nothing.
