I chest-bumped someone for the first time last week. No, this newly-coined verb is not a euphemism, or a chilling variant on happy slapping. It is, in fact, a greeting on internet networking site Facebook - a sort of electronic "hello".

I'm not altogether sure what feeling chest-bumping conveys, having never observed the practice in real life. But, as I was covertly using a colleague's on-screen persona to nudge another workmate, I didn't much mind.

In recent weeks, talk of people being poked, slapped, cuddled, high-fiiived and chest-bumped has been ringing in my ears. It's all very trying.

The social networking site seems to have captured the zeitgeist, with articles in magazines and newspapers listing some of the well-known celebrities, politicians and journalists that have a presence on it.

Now Facebook fever has spread to my workplace, and many of my colleagues seem to be caught up in the buzz.

Ostensibly, the site is a means to keep in touch with pals. Users have their own profile and hook-up with others by becoming "Friends" with them. They can upload drunken photos, write lists of their likes and dislikes, post messages on a virtual "wall" and join groups of various sorts.

The advantage Facebook seems to have over other similar sites such as Myspace is that users can make their profile private, so only "Friends" can access it, offering a degree of privacy.

So far, I've refused to enter the fray, even when real - as opposed to virtual - friends have invited me to do so. In part, my reaction stems from an inherent dislike of putting information about myself on the internet. (Who needs to know whether or to whom I'm coupled up, my religious views, or political complexion?) I'm also convinced this is just another fad that will trail off after the initial excitement has died down.

One of the main attractions of the site, I'm told, is the opportunity to get back in touch with old acquaintances. I can see the temptation. It's always intriguing to find out how schoolmates are doing, where and what they're up to now. And I'll admit I've keyed in some names from my past while using someone else's Facebook log-on. (I even discovered that an old friend has gained a new surname after recently getting married.) But I've also observed an element of one-upmanship in such searches; perhaps it's cheering to find your former peers are less successful that oneself. The other side of the coin is users keenly monitoring their "Friends" tally, in some bizarre form of online popularity contest.

To be honest, I'm happy to keep most of my childhood friends in my past. I think the fact I haven't spoken to someone for 15 years is generally a useful indicator that we've gone our separate ways. It's not that I bear any ill-feeling, but things and people change, and life moves on.

Reunions can be great, and I have got back in touch with people from years past, but it's generally involved more than a chest-bump and a brief "personal message", and, frankly, it's been the better for it.

Ultimately, the contact Facebook promotes is superficial. And, surely, in the time it takes to type in a lengthy - and, might I suggest, slightly vain - list of favourite films or books, it'd be easy to have a rewarding phone conversation or write a personal email or letter.

Unlike many of my friends, I've never truly embraced the internet age and still prefer to send a note by hand over an electronic poke or chat on an online-messaging program. I don't have a computer at home, but instead use an idiot-proof word-processor for writing. PCs simply don't agree with me.

I doubt I'll ever understand the Facebook phenomenon. One of the few concrete benefits it seems to offer is the opportunities it provides to waste time at work. Maybe that's where its real attraction lies.