Thursday, October 23

CDP Top 30 Of All-Time ('06-'08) - #8.

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#8 - "Adventures In Cyber Sex."
(Originally Published March 12, 2007.)

The following post is rated:
The following post is rated TV-14.
For sexual content and dialogue.

PART 1 - THE PRESENT.

During a lunch break last week, I was playing pool on Pogo, as I'm sometimes known to do. On the rare occasions when I play against another human player, I refuse to chat with them in the sidebar, as I'm far too focused on winning the game and voiding myself of all human contact. I'm far too old to be 'chatting' with anyone, let alone someone who lacks all basic grammar skills and wants to beat me at pool. Both pride and dignity are on the line, here.

As luck would have it, this day was a little different. I was minding my own business, shooting pool against my silent robotic opponent, when it was suddenly replaced by a living, human being. The screen name was like, xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx, or something to that effect. I took limited notice and continued my game, as she started yapping to herself in the sidebar:

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: hay baby

Silently, I focused on my game. I knew she was trying to confuse and disorient me, thus giving her an advantage on the pool table. Little did she know, she was dealing with a skilled and unshakable veteran of the green felt. I wasn't going to be like all those other losers. Not today.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: wanna cyber?

Just as I was focusing on nailing the 9 ball in the side pocket, my right eye slowly wandered over to the sidebar and noticed this little nugget of sinister information. Against my best judgment, I spoke up.

theCDP: No. I want to play pool.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: RUgay?

theCDP: That's not important. I'm on lunch and want to play pool.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: i wanna play 2 lol.

"That's it," I thought. "I'm outta here."

This particular game of pool was for all-important Ratings Points, however, so I didn't want to leave and get a loss put on my record (I already know that my priorities are messed up, so don't bother mentioning it). Instead, I remained calm and continued playing.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: wat do u waant to do 2 me?

theCDP: I want to finish this game and eat a Pop Tart.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: nooooooo

theCDP: Yeah, that's what I'm into these days. Pop Tarts are all the rage.

At this point, I knew that I was either being screwed with by a messed-up woman or a very messed-up man, so I just stayed coy and toughed it out. If you ever think that you're conversing with a beautiful woman who likes to talk dirty to strangers in Pogo chat rooms, you might want to seriously re-evaluate your life.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: im horny

By this point, I was looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody was around. I've never felt dirtier playing a game of pool in my life, save for that one time at my Dad's bar, when I was playing against a drunk woman whose tube-top fell around her waist about three shots in. True to drunken form, she refused to remedy the situation until the game was over.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: i said im horny.

theCDP: You know, I seriously doubt that.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: oooooh i am baby

Shaking my head, it was now my objective to out this person for the fraud and impostor that they were. I really don't like being manipulated, especially considering that I've never met someone who was a better manipulator than myself. You just can't beat the master.

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: how old RU?

theCDP: How old are you?

xXxSk8erBaBy996xXx: 14

Instantly, ice water filled my veins. It was as if someone had dangled a gargantuan spider in front of my computer monitor that had TNT for legs and cocaine where its body should be. I shot my legs out and flew back in my chair, clicking on anything that even remotely resembled a red X. I've seen Dateline; I know what they do to horrible people like me in jail. I'd be passed around like currency, nicknamed 'Vasoline Dream' and fitted for a pink riding crop.

I was already imagining Chris Hansen showing up at my house that night, clutching the Chat Log and asking me just what I thought I was doing acting this way.

"I just wanted to play pool! Why, God? Why?"

I did nothing wrong, but I was still too sick to eat that Pop Tart. My afternoon was ruined.

Yahoo! - 1994
(This is what Yahoo! looked like in 1994, in case you weren't around for it.)

PART 2 - THE PAST.

The main focus of this post was to tell the story I'm about to tell you now. What happened last week merely reminded me of this long-forgotten tale.

This must have happened, gosh, over 12 years ago. It was in an AOL chat room during the early days of the Consumer-Friendly Internet. It came during a time when I was at least willing to attempt to be a completely different person online. An alter-ego that wasn't afraid of women, didn't mind getting naughty and knew exactly what to say.

You know, an asshole.

I should interject here and state that I'm simply awful when it comes to Dirty Talk. I can't do it; I never have and I never will. There are just some words out there that make me blush and giggle like a schoolboy every time I hear them (titmouse, woodcock, titpecker), and it will probably always be that way. I wish I could sit here and tell you that I'm an absolute stud when it comes to each and every facet of gettin' it awn, but we both know that's just not true.

At the end of the day, the Missus doesn't need me to be shouting obscenities or whispering sweet nothings, because she usually likes to ball gag me, instead. I married her because she knows that I cannot play The Mating Game to save my sorry, dumb ass, and she's totally cool with it.

Sometimes, she even lets me stay up late and watch TV. With cookies!

Internet-wise, I'm not capable of typing something that I wouldn't be able to say out loud to someone. I'm a man of facts, not a man of fantasy, and slipping into a fake and dirty persona is almost impossible for me. Even in 1995, when I couldn't wait to be a different person than the loser I had become.

I guess that's how I was raised; stacked to the rafters with guilt and shame, pushing all lustful feelings into the pit of my stomach until I eventually went out and skinned some hooker alive.

But on this night, I was ready to dip my toes into the fast-evolving world of cyber sex. It wasn't long before I realized that I had no business being in the pool in the first place.

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: A/S/L?

theCDP: 18/M/CA, you?
(In reality, I was 13 and lived in Larsen; an unincorporated town in Wisconsin.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: 21F/MA

theCDP: Das' cool.
(Go Red Sox! I was feeling better already.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Wat u do for a living?

theCDP: I'm a writer. You?
(Okay, the lies were coming easier now. I was in the zone!)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Stripper
(Beautiful! The role playing had begun, and I was poised at the ready. She was probably a 45 year old man, but I wasn't in the mood for reality at this point. Lie to me, baby!)

theCDP: Rad!

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Did u jus say 'RAD?'
(I sometimes forgot that I was the only kid in the world who said 'rad' in 1995.)

theCDP: Sorry. I guess I'm an idiot.
(That was strike one. I really didn't want this super-hot fantasy stripper to ditch me, so I had to focus.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: um....ok

theCDP: So...do you have implants?
(I wasn't going to waste any more time with 80's surfer talk and chit-chat; I went in for the kill. Besides, that's a tactful enough question to ask a stripper, right?)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: nope, 38DD all natural.
(Now we're getting somewhere. I put in Green Day's 'Insomniac' album and shut off all of the lights.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: and I'm only 5'3"
(Um, okay. Even as a rookie in the cyber-sex game, I still think that she should have throttled back a bit. Either she was completely full of it, or she was 400 pounds, fantasy or not. I left it at that.)

theCDP: Wow.
(This was the sound of me officially running out of things to say. I honestly never thought the conversation would go this way. Furthermore, I was feeling ickier by the second.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Yea, they like bowling balls, lol

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Wanna go bowling?
(Oh, what a move! A metaphor! I get metaphors! Of course I want to go bowling!)

theCDP: Hells yeah!
(It took silencing every intelligent voice in my head to write that. Sometimes you have to write like a typical idiot if you want to be treated like a typical idiot. This was one of those times.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: So....wats your avg bowling score?
(What? Average bowling score? What was she referring to? Did I misunderstand? Were we actually talking about bowling now? Gosh, this cyber-sex stuff is hard! Not wanting to look like an idiot, I came up with the best answer I could think of.)

theCDP: Oh, about 280.
(That'll turn her on.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Wow, u must like big girls!
(Oops, strike two. I silently nodded my head and began to wonder what I was doing here in the first place. How could it be that I was actually a far smoother talker in reality than in fantasy?)

theCDP: Sorry, I lost track of the metaphors.
(Stupid me, breaking character again. Why is this so difficult for me? Think man, think! You're a writer, damn it! Get literal!)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: well, try and keep up or youre gunna miss out!

theCDP: Yes, ma'am.
(Even in a fantasy world, I was coming off like the biggest loser alive. Maybe there was just never any hope for a guy like me.)

SexyInsomniakGrrrl: Sooo....wat you wanna play?

theCDP: I don't know.
(I was getting depressed at this point, because I really didn't know. Scrabble and Jeopardy were my top two choices at this point, as there was no chance whatsoever I was going to make this work for me, despite all the effort in the world from my new stripper friend. I guess I was just a loser, and no amount of distance between me and the world was going to hide that.)

*SexyInsomniakGrrrl Has Signed Off.*

Take your fantasy and shove it.

PART 3 - THE FUTURE.

Do people honestly chat anymore? I had no idea that these avenues still existed in such a massive quantity until I started watching the Dateline specials last year. I guess no matter what my ego may convince me of, trends don't simply disappear just because I've moved on from them (see: Punk Rock, Meat, Zubaz).

What was once a mecca and cornerstone of the Information Superhighway now resembles more of a graveyard than anything. Chat rooms now are full of young people who have just connected to the Internet for the first time, and older people that possess a 6-figure porn collection. In that regard, I guess it's just like the old days, only much creepier now that I'm older.

As far as I go, I never fully learned how to properly seduce a woman with my words. Sure, people tell me that I have a halfway sexy radio voice and I can make anyone laugh, but I just can't help but use these powers for good instead of evil. If I'm not allowed to be honest, I crash and burn, and everyone around me knows it. As far as I'm concerned, it's better for me this way.

When me and the Missus started dating, we spent a lot of time together chatting online. As our relationship and feelings for each other grew, so did the overall tone and mood of our conversations. This came naturally for me, as everything I was saying was the truth, and I knew what was waiting for me on the other end of the fiber-optic cable.

Perhaps my unwillingness to adapt to fantasy and suspension of disbelief is an illness, instead of an advanced evolutionary trait? Perhaps I shouldn't feel sorry for everyone able to turn off their conscious every once in awhile; perhaps they should feel sorry for me?

I don't know for sure, but I'll tell you this:

I'm never playing pool again.

Comments:
When my parents got the AOL hookup around 95-96 I remember spending hour upon hour chatting with my friends that I had usually just seen during the day at school. Looking back I can't fathom what the obsession was over it. When I moved on to college it was nice to have the window up and get the "Hey wanna go drinking???" notice at 8 on a Tuesday (the scrubbing out of Engineering school was not nice, however). But I don't think I've bothered with it since freshman or sophomore year. A lot of that has got to be due to the fact that I just don't have a whole lot to say anymore.
 
I spent so many hours chatting online in high school, but never to people I actually knew. But I never once pretended to be someone else. It never even occurred to me to do so! Nor did I ever suspect anyone I was talking to of lying about who they were. I guess I'm really naive. On the other hand, I met several of the people I chatted with and all were exactly who they claimed to be.

I remember "dating" an 18-year-old named Ryan from CA for awhile, but he abruptly disappeared one day. Were you my surfer boyfriend?!
 
WALLROCK - Indeed. The idea of talking to people on something that wasn't a telephone was quite the sideshow at the time. I had a long-distance internet connection and constantly had to pay $200 a month bills. I also had to run a phone cord from one side of my room to the other just to hook the modem up. Ahhh....recent nostalgia.

BERRYJO - I admire your innocence, and yes, I was your secret surfer boyfriend. Thanks for the photos.
 
Ah, AIM. The countless hours I spent being cyberstalked by a gay 32 year old when I was 15 and really thought he just wanted to be friends.

Luckily, we never met.
 
I liked getting the "wanna cyber?" question. I'd always agree, and then just say "Yes." or "hello." to everything they said. It really killed whatever pathetic plan these people had for the evening.
 

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