I've never really indulged in the Internet dating thing. You see pictures of potential partners before you actually meet and acquire a sense of compatibility through the convenience of e-mail before wasting any high priced dry cleaning. I get it. In the age of technology when you e-mail instead of stamp mail, text instead of call and have a GPS instead of a map, we want immediacy. Why not an instant date? Could it get any easier?

I put up a personals ad on Craigslist.com stating that I was interested in meeting a guy for dinner and drinks. It was a lonely Saturday night and I figured I might meet a cute guy that could carry a conversation and get some action in the process. If I were lucky, he'd buy me dinner and appease the beast of my drinking problem. Upon putting up the ad I set some rules for myself. 1. I won't meet a man that sends me a picture of his bare chest. That's just tacky. Don't show me something I should only be seeing in the backseat of your car after a couple cocktails. 2. I won't meet someone that's obviously sending a mass response to several posts. Something like, "Hey sexy, you seem interesting. Would love to chat with you further. Ciao." You never addressed anything about my interest in punk rock movements, fast cars and hatchets. Indulge me with letting me know you actually read the ad. For all you know I could be a 500 pound man with a hair lip that lives in his mothers basement. 3. Please don't be a pervert. This should be self-explanatory. That's great that you want to fuck me or taste me but you haven't met me. Have some class; you won't approach a woman at a bar with no shirt, redundant overtures or horny lingo. I expect the same respect online.

I settled on an ex Marine, with baby blue eyes. We met at LaLa's café on Melrose and he was hotter then his picture. After 45 minutes, and a pitcher of Sangria, he had me laughing and interested in getting to know him. At the end of the date, I didn't want it to end. I couldn't believe that I met this guy online. He was witty, charming and fun to be around. Maybe this Internet dating thing wasn't so bad after all.

We go back to his condo on the Westside. He offers me a glass of wine and goes to the bathroom. I look over and in plain view there are about fifteen porno movies. I figured that he didn't realize that he would be bringing me home. As I looked at them further, I realized that these porno's were all of white women having sex with big black men. This guy is white. When he returned, I told him that he had some interesting taste in porn. He proceeds to tell me that he wouldn't normally tell me this on the first date, but he felt so comfortable with me. This white ex marine was obsessed with black cock. He was so obsessed that he pulled out a box of big black dildos. I was borderline impressed because this guy did his homework. He was definitely a connaisseur of fake black appendages. Some were just basic plastic and others were completely life like, they were even circumcised with veins. He spent a lot of time and money on his fetish. He told me to pick one that he could use on me. I cringed. Not because he wanted to bring a dildo into our non-existent sexual relationship, but if I want a hot black cock in me, it'll be attached to a hot black man, not a white man's fetish. I'm all for toys, but I'll purchase them on my own. I politely declined and told him I had to leave. Dinner was great, but used dildos are not my thing.

As I return home, I check my e-mail and have a new e-mail from him thanking me for the date with a picture attached of him sucking on one of his hot black cocks. All of a sudden I felt the need for a rape shower.

I decided that I would stop using the Internet for a dating tool. I will meet my men the old fashioned way, at a bar, on a street corner, a porn theater or just club one over the head and take him back to my pink cave. In a tech savvy world, this girl is still somewhat old fashioned at heart.