Girls of the Internet

There once was a legend asserting that there are no sane girls on the series of tubes, that these women are either:

1. Thick-glassed entomologists ,
   
2. Crazy cat ladies (Laugh out loud, cat),
3. Charged $4.95 a minute,
4. Robots, or
   
5. Men

Not true. Not true at all.

Maaaaaybe prior to the WWW (a time when BBS and Gofers lived on the otherside of a 2400 baud monstrosity) there were fairer-sex types fullstop, because their live were richer and more interesting than that of your typical whistlephreaker.

But today, surprise Geek-san, there are girls online. And not your katoey flavour either.

What are they like?

Feeling like a cat with a deathwish, I signed up to a website whose name is the same as that of a great rock band, and a wet spot in the desert.

Of the myriad of gorgeous and frankly downright wonderful women, I dated Bushpig and Psychopatty, mainly because the others gave me the proverbial "You're a nice guy, but."

Anyway...

Ms. Bushpig came from a state less backward than WA, but my god did she belong here or what? Heck, she was trailer-park. Nevermind, give it a chance. A couple of dates. I couldn't have the heart to turn the heifer away, lest she think I were a male chauvinist (who, me?). The story Bushpig brought to sorry little Perth was no less pathetic. Kicked out by her mother for being, frankly an unproductive, unskilled, hedonistic, corpulent, Peter Jackson-chugging degenerate, Ms. Bushpig hurtled her way to beach-side Scarborough. Sad, but hey, everyone deserves a second chance, make something of themselves. So we get her a job at K-Mart as a checkout chick.

She complained about the 3 hours' of work she did on a cash register ('It's too long', 'my feet hurt', 'My boss won't let me smoke' and various other complaints). Coup d'grace? Bushpig tried her best to cost me my OSCE by being someone too clingy and precious than her BMI 50 would've suggested. Nah. Fuck off.

Psychopatty's words were like cocoa butter, sweet and creamy. She seemed perfect, fun-loving and family-orientated. You love Wii's and DeviantArt? Wow, me too! "I love you, I would never cheat on you". That, almost as sweet and gentle as that sledgehammer of an innocuous text message, "I cheated on you and I never loved you", five days later. Heh.

Later on came MingleSum (figure it out), Narcissist (I come to look for dates so I can talk about myself), DSM-IV BPD Punk (I love you/Don't talk to me) and various others. All of them, fuck off.

So, what is it about Internet dating that attracted this reputation? 100% safe? Maybe. But will you find love? Proper love? Is it really that much better than meeting the nutcase next to you at the Leedy vying for a free grenadine vodka?

The datum point of this issue lies in trust. Ever noticed just how much paranoia there is in the world today? Never mind the terrorists and pretence wars; look at your mates.

How many of them are reluctant to share the phone number of a mutual friend? For fear that you have some beef for them, or worse, you're a stalker?

So what hope is there for a person shouting into the dark, "Is there anybody out there?!" if only the psychopaths and the deranged will answer?