Whether you know it or not, and whether you like it or not, they’re always hovering around.
Often mistaken for “The Weird Guy,” T-Sat’s well-known for social awkwardness, especially around the opposite sex. The major difference in these two, however, creates a gigantic chasm. Satellites rarely communicate for fear of rejection. This is quite the opposite of “weird” people, who are known more by their excessive communication (sometimes in spite of rejections). Even with the low dose of communication, Satellites deliver a high dose of presence. A few weeks ago I was chatting with a friend of mine (who may or may not live in Tennessee). This person was telling me of a dinner planned with a few friends. The event was announced through a private invite on Facebook (so of course, even if I was invited, I didn’t know it). My friend put much emphasis on the secrecy of the invite, how it was meant for a select group so the party remained small and comfortable for those attending. Made sense to me so far. At the conclusion of the event, my friend noticed someone sitting close by, but not a part of the original group invite. It was a Satellite. My friend was shocked and bewildered on how this person knew where to be and when. Perhaps Facebook’s privacy settings dropped the ball and the event leaked out? Did someone accidently mention the party when they weren’t supposed to? Questions like these often arise when Satellites are visible. It’s as if they’re receiving data from an an unknown signal source, data that keeps them up-to-date in real time about social events around town. For their ability to stay informed, I have to applaud these social orbiters. They are resourceful, mysteriously mobile, and operate with little to no noise. While they’re presence isn’t always desired, they must be admired for their commitment to the game. Satellites are consistent, a strength and quality with plenty of room for improvement for friends we call “The Indiana Jones of the South(west Airlines).”