Tuesday, April 9, 2013


"You've got mail" are the words that greet me each day when I log onto America Online.  I can almost see what the speaker looks like, have pictured his miniature domicile behind my computer screen.  He is sort of my unofficial roomie.

My initial purpose for acquiring internet access was to use it as a research tool that would save me trips to the library.  I am a man easily distracted, however, not to mention curious by nature, and above all else, a social beast.  So it wasn't long before I grew intrigued by the peculiar world of online chatting. Browsing through personal profiles became an addictive habit for a while, and eventually I came across one that seemed too good to be true.

Sally’s micro-autobiography described her as being drop dead gorgeous, five feet ten inches of long legged perfection, one hundred and thirty five pounds of curvaceous and toned womanhood, and possessing a sexually insatiable appetite.  How could I resist making contact?  If she was not taking considerable artistic license with her description, I was a few types on the keyboard away from heaven.

Speaking online is a far different animal from face to face conversation, or even from communication over the phone.  This is because one can carefully construct in advance what they say, and control with ease what they decide on second or third thought to leave out.  You are in the privacy and comfort of your own home, impossible to be physically located unless you choose to divulge such personal information.  This causes guards to be let down and a high level of intimacy to be reached at a faster rate than usual.  Actually, I think that part of the reason for my opening up to Sally so readily was that I didn't truly believe she was real.  It felt that like the man who informed me that I had mail, she existed only within the confines of my computer terminal.  It is easy to see why many people have fallen in what they perceive to be love with people they have never met.  The peculiar phenomenon of computer mating is a potent draw for thousands upon thousands of lonely hearts.

I, of course, have no difficulty meeting women in real time and space.  There is no need for me to get my rocks off through a box filled with complex wiring.  Nevertheless, I would be the last person to rule out any method of communication that could lead to carnal pleasure, and in the case of Sally, this was the path taken.

After a month of chatting and emailing and exchanging on-screen photographs, we decided to get together and see if reality would live up to electronic fantasy.  The easy manner in which we vibed in cyberspace suggested, if not downright promised, that we would enjoy each other's company.  And if she matched her snap shots, which showed her to indeed be stunning, it would definitely be on.

I was the first to arrive at the bar we agreed to meet in.  Never having been on a blind date before, I found myself amused by the unfamiliar emotions experienced.  Nervous does not adequately sum up how I felt, nor would I go so far as to say I was excited. But the anticipation certainly produced a rush.  I felt like a spy, my mission to investigate the prospects of lust, love and all that lies in between.

Our eyes met immediately upon her entrance.  I could see she was relieved that my appearance lived up to what had been billed. As for her, she was not quite as pretty as she photographed.  Although her skin was flawlessly smooth, her facial features were a tad hard for my taste.  But she was certainly attractive and her body was as extraordinary as advertised.  This was more than enough for me and what I had in mind for the night's festivities.  Score one for AOL. 

Within an hour, aided by an excellent bottle of wine, it was as if we were old acquaintances with but one crucial piece of business to attend to.  Sally and I had now seen and heard one another.  We had inhaled each other's scents and felt one another's touch.  Only our senses of taste remained ignorant, for I was not counting the kiss on the cheek I had greeted her with.  I am not a man who is satisfied by a nip or nibble.  There was a feast before me that I intended to devour at first opportunity.  As Sally was finishing off her third glass of wine, drowning the last of her inhibitions, I knew that meal time would be arriving sooner rather than later.

Sally and I both honestly expressed before meeting up that we were enjoying our statuses as single people.  Until the right person came along we were content getting to know the wrong ones who passed through.  We had already determined that we were a pleasant match as conversationalists.  The time had come to find out how compatible we might be in a more private setting with more intimate activities. Glass of wine number four sealed the deal.  I slipped my hands onto her firm waist, slid my tongue over and around her own, and simultaneously our names were signed on the dotted line.  Anyone who wants cyber sex can have it.  I prefer a more personal touch.

Almost wordlessly it was agreed that we would go to my apartment.  Plenty of words had already been typed, a sufficient amount more had been said.  It was time to use our mouths for more pleasurable purposes.

She could have stopped me later in the game than she did.  I guess I should be appreciative of this fact.  At the time, I could only be furious that I had not been alerted far earlier.  It would have been considerate of her to notify me prior to our agreeing to meet, to making goo goo eyes at each other, to kissing one another.  Certainly before my fingers were preparing to set free the breasts they had been enjoying the contours of.

"Wait," she said, sliding towards the opposite end of my sofa.

"What for?"

"There's something I haven't been honest about.  Something I've been keeping from you.  I was going to hold off on getting together for a couple more months.  By then my secret wouldn't exist anymore.  But that isn't really true.  The evidence might be gone, but the secret will still be there.  And I can't lie to you about something like this.  I thought maybe I could, but I can't.  So I decided to meet you, in case I got lucky and it turned out that it didn't matter that much."

"What are you talking about, Sally?"  I prepared myself for the standard "It turns out that I actually do have a boyfriend and/or husband" speech, deciding on the fly which words I would use to convince her that at least for tonight, it didn't matter.  As for tomorrow, it still wouldn't matter to me.  She could deal with it however she saw fit.

"We have something in common, Michael.  Something I plan to get rid of, but I haven't done so just yet."

I followed the downward direction of her gaze and the hint proved sufficient.  I would not need to see the evidence.  It was unnecessary for Sally's mystery to be literally revealed.  I got the nauseating picture, understood with total clarity the trait that we shared.  Sally and I both urinated standing up.  Not only did I have mail, but I also had a male.

She or he or whoever/whatever was hastily shown to the door, after which I did some heavy gargling, showering and drinking.  I had never been more infuriated or appalled, yet a part of me could not help but admire the skill of the deception.  I could not think of a single guy who would have turned Sally down before the nasty little secret was revealed. 

I called up a lady friend who I knew wouldn’t mind my late night request to stop by.  More importantly, I knew from firsthand knowledge that she was exactly what she appeared to be, all woman. I raced to and then through Theresa with fervor, followed this up with a rock solid sleep, and awoke the next afternoon with order restored to my world and Cyber Sally relegated to the most confidential chambers of my memory bank.


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