Across the crocodile moat

Online dating can become a world unto itself, one which often seems unlinked to the demands and reassurances of the world most of us live in daily.

Frankly, I prefer the real world to cyberspace. Yes, you will argue, in many cases the real world is cyberspace. However, there is much more room for behavior in cyberspace which I honestly don't think would be tolerated in ordinary discourse. Frankly, my dear, I don't need to hear about your dimensions or your favorite porn sites or what you did in that expensive hotel bathroom.

Some of the less graphic stories used to be fascinating to me, opening up a world of which I had little knowledge. Now I find them almost traumatic, illustrating as they do a culture in which I am an alien-without any need for asylum.

So when I get feedback from a friend, as I will sometimes when telling my dating stories (or non-dating stories), it serves as a useful reality check.

More and more my friends are asking me whether I should not try another venue for meeting eligible men.

Then I mentally run the checklist of options, and wonder if I should get off my butt and find a running group or a hiking meet up or a weekly chocoholic gathering.

I don't fit this world of casual hookups and hypersexed banter that is the key to admission for so many men, and probably more than a few of the "ladies."

But surely, out there somewhere, there must be someone as odd as me. Someone who is willing to open the castle door and escort me over the alligator moat-even if we only make it as far the entrance hall, with its deer heads and crossed swords on the wall.

A guy who wants more than an hour's pleasure and a casual goodbye-a man who is as willing to unveil his feelings as he is his body--someone who knows all about defenses, but will, as the Sting song says, set the battlements on fire. That, I can do.