“I’m not just some girl you met on the Internet”

[googmonify]8790107066:right:120:600[/googmonify]Private PracticeA few weeks ago on “Private Practice” two colleagues decided to take their sexual chemistry to the “friends with benefits” level. However, when in the bedroom ready to commence, she couldn’t go through with it, claiming that sex together would cheapen their relationship.

She exclaims, “I’m not just some girl you met on the Internet.”

In other words, she’s saying that Internet dating sites are the equivalent to hookup sites — prostitution without payment. Easy sex. Women who list themselves on the sites must be loose.

Hmmm.

Playgirl glory

It took five months of occasional email exchanges to finally meet. It was worth the wait.

Why so long? He had been traveling the world for a non-profit project he founded. He was in the States infrequently during the past year, and even more rarely at his home in my area.

As part of getting to know each other, he sent me a link to his project’s Web site where I learned more about him. Armed with his unique full name, it was easy to Google him.

PlaygirlThrough this sleuthing I uncovered that he had been not only a Marine fighter pilot — but also a Playgirl “Real Man of the Month!” Granted, that was nearly three decades ago. During our first phone conversation, I commented on his Web page. He said laughingly, “If you get me drunk enough I’ll tell you some stories that I couldn’t put on the page.”

“Will that include the Playgirl story?” I asked playfully.

“I’m a nerd!”

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So said the professor with a Ph.D. and several masters degrees. My Google search revealed a page (not written by him) that called him “a famed professor” in his area of study. Other sites also lauded him. So I thought perhaps he was being modest when saying he was a nerd as he pursued me by sweet, thoughtful emails and phone calls.

His initial email said he was from out of state — 2000 miles away — but was planning to relocate to my area. I am a sucker for a man with good writing skills, so I responded and soon a vigorous email and phone conversation was launched.

UrkelWhen I met him a week after his first email, I saw that he was telling the truth. Can you imagine a 56-year-old Steve Urkel? I’m afraid the similarities were scary. Instead of hiked-up pants, he wore an ill-fitting patterned jacket with clashing shirt. His hunched shoulders suggested a form of osteoporosis or some other back malady. But as I stood straighter, so did he, so it seemed more habit than affliction.

He had braces, which seemed to be helping pull in his buck teeth and closing the gap of several missing ones. This also explained, in part, his lisp. His amblyopia, or lazy eye, kept me guessing which eye to address.

Beware of multitasking when multidating

When friends learn I have sometimes dated multiple men simultaneously, they ask how I am able to do so.

Logistically, I keep notes in my Date-A-Base, logging facts like children (names, ages, locations), parents (living or not, location), marriage/LTRs (how long, how long ago), where he grew up, went to school, or important jobs or locations. Also, if he reveals deeper feelings, fears or concerns, I log that. But I’m better at remembering those conversations than facts and figures.

I can go from a conversation with one man to another pretty easily. It makes me realize how quickly we vilify those who date around, saying “How could he take one woman out to dinner one night and another the next?” We call these people “players” even if there is no purposeful behavior to lead one to believe you are committed to them.

I now understand how men — who we stereotypically think of when we think of multidating — can go from woman to woman in a short period of time. Compartmentalizing is not that hard. I’ve been known to carry on two IM conversations simultaneously and not miss a beat. Or have lunch with one guy and dinner with another on the same day.

Prince Considerate breaks up — considerately

After dinner and a nice stroll, we settled back in my house for a DVD. But before we could get started, he pulled me to his lap and put his arms around me.

“This is a very hard thing, but I need to say it. I don’t know why, but I’m not finding myself falling in love with you.”

He’d mentioned this a few weeks before, so it wasn’t news. We’d both felt similarly, but knew the other person had a lot of terrific characteristics so thought we should give it a bit more time.