A walk on the (sort of) wild side

I was frustrated last night.

As I wrote a friend, I wish I knew more single guys with intestinal fortitude (a polite way of saying what I mean).

That really means courage. I wish that more men didn't fold like a paper fan when someone challenged them. I wish that they could take a position that might entail setting healthy boundaries.

I wish that there weren't so many Samson's seeking their Delilah.

And yeah, I know there are lots of things that men can say about women. Generalizations are toxic...trust me, I could write the copy.

And have written it.

All this to explain why I was in a crazy mood when I checked out my "viewed" page on a dating site.

Well, well, there was Diderot.

OK, so I wasn't being viewed by an ancient French writer. But this fellow, who was pretty good-looking, had taken the name of a renowned French skeptic from a few centuries before.

How could I not view his profile?

He's a writer -- even better. I have a soft spot for journalists, God knows why.

So what he lived in D.C.? We could have passionate meetings at a hotel near the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. We could stroll around the shops, go to the Aquarium, take in an Orioles game (well, perhaps not).

I shot him an admiring note -- but as I was signing off, I noticed that under orientation he had chosen "bisexual."

Oh dear. Too late.

When I got back on, he'd written me back. He loved my third photo, he said -- and didn't I look like a dominatrix?

Actually, this isn't the first time I've heard men say this - believe me when I say that in my pictures there are no whips or high-heeled boots in evidence.

He also said that he didn't share my faith, but did respect it.

I hate to say it, but many of the most intellectual guys I know are atheists.

That was cool, I wrote, but I couldn't wrap my mind around the bisexuality part.

He preferred women 90/10, said Monsieur Diderot. And he didn't cheat.

He thanked me for being so nonjudgmental. Then I confessed my clergy association.

Are you offended that I find that oddly sexy? he wrote back.

No, I wrote back -- I told him about my favorite hedonist, and how he had owned up to similar feelings. I guess it's the transgressive piece.

Send me a picture he wrote.

As you can imagine, I had reservations about that -- but I was also enjoying the back and forth. It made me feel a little wild -- without having to act on it.

But I did speculate...I have, as I have said to friends before, a mind that is a sometimes more than G-rated version of "All Things Considered."

Could I? Probably not. And was he being totally upfront with me? Who knows?

I signed off to prepare dinner for the children, and when I got back on again, his profile was gone -- as if it had never been.

I have to admit, that weirded me out a bit. It may indicate that he's not sure whether he belongs on a dating site for those with more vanilla taste.

Maybe he'll show up again -- and we can continue, at least, our conversation.