An Irreverent Look at Internet Dating 

On a lark (read: a particularly lonely evening) a couple of weeks ago, I decided to put a personals ad online. Being a writer, and maybe more to the point, a cheap writer, I searched out a spot where I could find people in my own city – with all the basic bells and buzzers for free. Sexyads.net seemed like the right place to begin my journey back into the dating world, because my search engine told me so.

It wasn't mistaken. This is definitely the place for a single woman to be.

I put in a simple little ad saying what I was seeking, and uploaded a recent mug shot taken for another column. I figured at best, I'd get a few responses bitching at me because I asked the respondents to be able to spell.

I mean, I'm sorry, but it's just a thing with me.

So, when I went to check my mail, I was astounded to see people who apparently figured that actually reading the ads was a waste of precious time. Nope, some men just want to get right to the jugular. And, who can blame them?

Attached to maybe 40 percent of the responses to my ads, were photos of enormous, beautiful, erections. No faces, mind you. Let's not waste time with pesky details.

"Yep, I'm just gonna show the little lady what she can expect from me," some might have thought as they belched, scratched their stomachs and hit the "upload" button. Sometimes, they'd send a nice, romantic little note, like, "Wanna lick of this?"

To say the least, I was charmed beyond belief.

What fun! All I have to do, is open my mail and I find the Eighth Wonder of the World, throbbing and ready to fill up my entire box, so to speak.

And to think I wondered if I'd have any fun here.

Of course, it does make things a bit problematic when arranging that first date for coffee. I'd sit there, waiting for Mr. Wonder(ful) to show up, but had to become a bit demanding in order to be sure they were who they said they were.

One would walk in and approach me where I was seated on a sunken velvet sofa.

"Are you Sonja?" he'd ask.

"That depends. Stand right here and drop trou, Buster," I'd say, pointing out the area directly between me and a small coffee table.

Pants now around the respondent's ankles, I'd ask Mr. Wonder(ful) to kindly work himself into the position that was shown in his picture.

"I mean, for all I know, you uploaded a picture of someone else's penis," I'd say. "I have to be sure."

The coffee shop employees have said they enjoy my liasons, and I believe their business increases on those days I'm usually there, meeting someone on a first date.

I guess the lesson for me, was not to lower my expectations, but to widen my horizons – at least to a size that can accommodate a picture bigger than correct spelling.

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