Selling lemons

I can be very naive sometimes.

A post came up in my Facebook feed about sleep problems. It was illustrated by a woman holding a rubber lemon.

I was intrigued. I have terrible insomnia – how could a rubber lemon fix it?

The post was VERY long.

It started like this …

You can understand how my curiosity was piqued – my mind spirals regularly and the panic rises as the hours tick by. Friday night was a killer. I was still wide awake at 1am.

So I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled through that Facebook post, wondering when it was going to get to the point and explain how the rubber lemon miraculously cures insomnia.

A sneaking suspicion finally dawned on me.

The lemon is a SEX TOY.

I immediately stopped scrolling and clicked out of the post, because I know how the Facebook algorithm works. If you even hover over a post in your feed, Facebook decides you’re obsessed.

But it was too late.

The algorithm had locked onto me like a bull shark lining up its prey from 200 metres away.

And now my whole Facebook feed resembles an X-rated fruit shop.

That’s fine when I’m scrolling on the couch, although it’s a little annoying that there are lemons everywhere.

But the ads are getting naughtier and I’ll be catching the bus to work soon. The commute is one of my favourite scrolling times and now it will be consumed with nervous paranoia.

This is one of the tamer ads …