An Irreverent Look at Internet Dating 

By Sonja Katz

To Eat, or Not to Eat

The other day, I checked my personal ad responses to find a letter from a guy who comes to my town often and wanted to get together for dinner.

His letter was polite, charming, and he even attached a picture of himself (no, not that kind) without my having to ask.

He suggested that we go to one of the best restaurants in the county. It's right on the sea shore, where you can enjoy a sumptuous meal while gazing out of spectacular floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook lighted, crashing surf, only a few feet away. The food is wonderful; it's the type of place you go for a very special occasion.

"Hey, cool. The guy's got class," I thought to myself. I knew it violated my own rule about never committing to anything longer than a cup of coffee on the first date, but … it was that place.

Slobber dripped onto my keyboard as I had an out-of-body experience. I saw myself walking in, wearing something very upmarket, and being seated at the best table in the house.  Will he order an appetizer? Maybe some basil prawns, then seafood chowder … hmmm, rack of lamb, perhaps? No, wait. I'd have Medallions of Ahi, pan-seared, rare, with that lime/wasabi butter stuff.

"Let's just check out ol' Daddy Warbucks," I chuckled while clicking on his jpeg portrait.

Horror filled my screen in the form of what could have passed as my father, forty years ago. Or, even worse …

"Ewwwwww, gross!" I yowled. "I can't date anyone who looks like my brother!"

Of course I couldn't. But, what to do? Accept the date? Shovel caviar onto my chilled plate from the salad bar with absolutely no compunction about the fact that I knew full well – that I'd never, ever see this guy past the Crème Brûlée?

I consulted with a friend about this moral question, and when she stopped laughing, she asked, "Since when have YOU been on a diet, and why would you ever turn down a date with a guy who may be solvent?"

Seeing I would get nowhere with her advice, I decided to seek my own counsel.

"Well, let's see. What would a nice person do?" I wondered while looking in the general direction of my dog. The scent of doggie bags wafted past his bowl into his imagination. He was panting and drooling in a typical male response. There was no mystery about which side he was on.

I still haven't decided, but I've got to answer my respondent's tasty invitation soon. You know, it's just like when they say you should avoid shopping on an empty stomach: From now on, I'm going to make damned sure I've had something to eat before I check my e-mail.