so it's 11 o'clock on a Sunday night . . . u have scrolled thru at least half a dozen M4M chat rooms several times and haven't found anybody of interest . . . no one has IM'd u since 8 p.m. . . . u have seen one screen name that makes u lick your lips but u discover that he doesn't appear on your buddy list because he has blocked YOUR name, despite a couple of friendly chats initiated by HIM after one hot hook up under a different screen name . . . what's that all about? u wonder, filing away the slight in a part of your brain activated in early adolescence and that has long since overflowed with the kind of casual rejections that thicken your skin if not your psyche . . . why is he avoiding me even though he keeps IMing me and making comments like interesting how i keep IMing u no matter what name u r using ? . . . but then, while u r deep in a New Yorker article, you hear the sound that makes u jump like a Pavlovian dog and it's him, flirting with u, inviting u over to see his new sleigh bed . . . do u swallow your pride and go? . . . of course i did, eagerly, because after all i never have hooked up with anyone like him on AOL . . . but when i get there i notice he has trouble looking at me in the eye . . . immediately, he leads me to his bedroom and we undress . . . i simply cannot believe i am kissing a man as beautiful as he . . . flawless face, shoulders, chest, dick and legs, all in perfect proportion, with the demeanor of a student council president who also played quarterback . . . and no denying it, we do have a sexual chemistry which leads me to recognize that he likes to get off the same way i do: so i fuck him in the mouth as he lays below me, twisting his nipples hard, until i shoot and he shoots all over his defined, lightly hairy pecs . . . 10 minutes later i am riding my bike home happy to have been chosen . . . sometimes just being the right cock at the right time is all that matters . . . but more than that, the experience teaches me something about AOL cruising: your profile alone can help establish an ineffable connection more often than not destroyed by the exchange of pics . . . maybe sensibility could be just as important as the sex thing if we'd just let it.