Two years ago I sat snuggled on my sofa and watched Speed for the first time, Just looking at Sandra Bullock ordering a pizza in her pyjamas filled me with a craving to get onto the internet. At the time I was happily engaged, Planning to have a family.
I bought a PC. I am now single, but a good typist.
<*dv_3*> So you can do your banking online, you can get free music, and you can measure your bra size at home! And now, I have discovered, you can even get a brand new shiny boyfriend from the web, very often delivered straight to your door! I do however wonder, why, if shopping sites carry a padlock symbol to protect users from fraud, dating sites don't apply the same scheme. Internet dating site fraud is easy:
So you start off in a chat room, first one that's flashing up on your home page, shifty look over your shoulder, make sure the old man can't see and you go in... Ooohhh register... Oh my god I have to have a name? Erm want to appeal - seem sexy, funny, and better than any other woman in the room. Erm.. I know, "sweetblonde". OK - password - and enter...
Mmm, OK. I'm gonna speak now.
"HI!" Lines scroll before me, messages, but nothing remotely directed to me. "Erm Hi im 25 from the South" ha ha keep it vague, more chances of a conversation. Still nothing. Quick glance over shoulder. OK change name. Think think think... OK, let's try "sweetblonde69", and we're back in. I suddenly see my name plastered all over the room, I have finally found what its all about!
By day I am size 20. My hair is unkempt and has seen no ugrade since I last saw my toes. By night, well I am whatever they want me to be! And it feels fantastic. My tattered finger nails have become beautifully manicured talons, I have become size 8, My thighs are covered in stockings and suspender belt, Strangely my body hair has all diminished, My skin so silky soft where before my stretch marks could have told the way to Scotland and back, and my pussy has become so moist you could baste a turkey.
I am what ever I want to be, and I can change at any moment, and all at the click of a mouse and a stroke of a key.
There is a buzz sitting in a chat room surrounded by women competing to win a conversation with a guy, any guy at random. At the chance to find, well come on lets face it, we want to find the funniest, most romantic, most intelligent and dreamy guy in the world. Forgetting of course that if such a man exists he's probably feeding strawberries and champagne to Julia Roberts, and will certainly not be attending an Internet chat room. Nah, but still one of these poor devils before me might fulfil one or two of the criteria. The screen is flashing with private messages, all private to me, Just ME! And I want to talk to all of them, I want to talk to them ALL! A/S/L? Hmm, feel such an nerd asking what it means, Asexual/Straight/Lesbian?? I wonder, nah cant be. I ask, and put it down to a blonde moment, which strikes off a new conversation. Its not long until the size of my breasts come into play. I start to compile notes. If I put blonde, size 8, age 21, bra 36DD, I get straight into cyber sex.. If I put Brunette 25,12,34C I get a pleasant conversation. If I put brown roots and blonde ends, age 25, size 20 and 42DD (ie the truth) OH DEAR, he suddenly gets disconnected.
And ever so slowly I start to find the answer to it all. I can choose what I'M looking for and by entering the correct code, he delivers.
<*dv_2*> He. Who is he? Who is this man that will whisk me away from it all? He talks to me and warms me, the sound of the message rings in my ears, almost like the sound of church bells, even the typeface he uses stimulates me. We spend an evening pouring our hearts out, and feel a bond, I go to bed smiling, Have I done it, have I found him? I sleep dreaming of his messages falling on my screen, and decide we must have that same font on our wedding invitations. We talk and talk he suggest books to read. I buy them, read the blurb and file them under the bed and indulge in an evenings' conversation on his latest read pretending to know it inside and out, occasionally selecting quotes and estimating a view. There's always the "two levels" part of literature isn't there?
After day three of scintillating conversation he mentions the way I look. I stumble, and panic, ideas run through my mind, I can't show him that, I delve into photo albums and look for that photo, the one where I'm size ten with the long flowing hair and perfect finger nails, but no its not there is it, Its all in my head. Considerations haunt my mind, "Sorry, I don't have a scanner", seems an easy option, or maybe that my PC recently had a virus and its probably not safe to send it to him. I look in my drawer and see an old passport photo. Head shot. Good. Hair looks neat, and its about 5 years before I found a love of kebab meat and chips. I place it in the scanner, immediately removing the issue date, and chop off my shoulders. Mm looks nice with a tint, brighten the picture, lovely, yeah he'll buy that. And hit 'send file'... Mission accomplished - complete and immediate WOW response! OK so I lied again but what part of this whole experience is based on honesty? Not one bit. When I am sat before my PC I am so sexy, so sassy and so SINGLE, and if I didn't know better I'd suggest that a woman invented the minimise facility. And in return, of course, I receive his picture. He looks so normal, he's a man I wouldn't look at twice in the street, but he's sharing his evening with me, thinking about me as I am him, I cant just leave him now can I? No, but I find more bait, delay my responses to him, play aloof, he'll soon take the hint.
<*dv_1*> This man that I considered was so special, I no longer want to spend time with, I don't want to think about him, but that feeling, that newness, that was something I haven't felt in a long time. And I LIKE it.
Well the passport photo ruse isn't going to last forever, so I indulge in a webcam. However, on the screen I look like, well, me, and there's nothing i can do. For days it lies dormant on top of my machine. But eventually curiosity gets the better of me. So, I do my hair, and cover myself in thick make up. I realise that with 6 CD cases piled in a slant and a 100 watt bulb in a spot light, head tilted, I do actually look quite feasible. So to work again...
<*dv_0*> With my new look on my web cam, and my charm, it becomes apparent that I'm going to get more chances if my face is all they see. My pretty face, no moustache, no double chin, just sexy eyes staring right at them. Its going ok getting about 4 viewers but not satisfying, not in the slightest. I am not the best female in the room. I face two choices: 1. upgrade me, or 2. downgrade the room. So I make an appearance in a room called BBW, that's Big Beautiful Women for the uninitiated. A room where men want big girls, so if that's what their expecting, and I show up, with my anti-double chin face they are going to want me. And so it happened. I now had 34 men viewing me at once, all wanting to talk to me, all asking why am I in the room. I am the prettiest person in the room again, I watch in amazement as women leave the room because all it says on their internet page, on their escape from their insecurities is MY NAME! My name said so many times, by so many men all wanting me, and it feels so good, finally I am a head turner and for once in my life, I have found 34 men that need me!
This is so easy, all I have to do is question and listen, Its so very simple. He confides that his last relationship broke down, I ask why. She cheated on me, is his reply. I have two options, do I claim to have been cheated on in a past relationship and understand what he's going through, or do I tell him how I would never ever do that to a guy, or both? And he's understanding me already, We talk about his possessions: he owns his own house, he tells me which motor he drives, meanwhile I am searching web pages of house prices in the area, and looking for pictures of his car, so I can ligitimately state the model of his car as my favourite, and he hasn't got a clue. We discuss music, he tells me his favourite songs, I search for the lyrics to quote. We share our love for long walks through mountains (well, I walk to the bus stop across the road), he tells me how he loves nothing more than sharing a bath, I add bubbles and candles into the conversation, hiding the fact that, well, there's not going to be room in there for both of us.
He tells me intimate details of his life, he tells me everything he wants in an ideal woman, and with 26 letters of the alphabet at my disposal, I become her.
Building my selected criteria has become so easy. If hes 18-24 he's after sexual stimulation, if he's 25-29 he's probably experienced one long term relationship and is happy to try again, but if he is 30-35, well he has probably had two or three long term relationships, possibly marriage, tired of the long tiresome loneliness and will buy into anything to be loved again. I have found my target! When he has got to know me and love me, is he really going to mind that I'm not the way I seemed? Chances are he'd put up with my flaws to be loved again, maybe just maybe he might, and if he doesn't I'll just rejoin the queue. NEXT CUSTOMER PLEASE! See, Easy!
Submitted by Louisa Lane
|
