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You'll have an elaborate system of passwords and blocks on your computer that keep you off sites like Craigslist but still able to write your term papers.

En español | You made the mistake of asking your adult daughter if that guy she went out with last night was "anything serious." She gave you a nonchalant shrug and smiled.

Marilyn, a 57-year-old single colleague of mine, recently reconnected with someone she had worked with many years ago. "No," Marilyn said with a laugh, "it's better than that: I'm in like with him — and that's exactly where I want to be." She further confided that they planned to make their reunions "a regular thing — if four times a year can be called 'regular.' But I think that's about all I really want." Marilyn's casual approach to maintaining a friendship with benefits typifies the mindset of older folks who have reconciled themselves to having "great fun" even if it's "just one of those things." And episodic pleasure-seeking may be more common than you think: In The Normal Bar, a book I wrote last year with Chrisanna Northrup and James Witte, we reported that 61 percent of female survey respondents who had partners fantasized about someone they had met.

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Personals dating encounters

Those of you who argue with me about the ease of getting laid should go right now and post an ad on Craigslist, then sift through the hundreds of responses.

Yes, some of them will be creepers with dick pics, but some of them, I can assure you, will be quite enticing. That may not be something you want to do, but it is easy.

That dream became a reality the first time I met someone using the Craigslist "Casual Encounters" section.

I don't remember what I wrote, but I clearly remember padding downstairs barefoot to sign the guy into my dorm room.

Picture conveyer belts of them trailing endlessly into the distance, hard and ready with dicks in hand. The first time I ever went online, to Prodigy back when they existed and charged by time spent signed on, I felt its vast potential for interpersonal relations, much like the first thing I wanted to do on Chatroulette was show people my boobs.

Ordering one up is sort of like picking a song on the jukebox, watching that electronic arm grab one from its slot and deliver it to you. For someone with low self-esteem, who had rarely gotten any kind of sexual attention in real life, going online was like falling down a rabbit hole into a life I had previously only read about in the "Sweet Valley High" novels I mulled over -- the kind of life where boys and men want to "chat" with you, and sex with another person is a tangible possibility.

Whatever tentative boundaries once modulated your behavior will melt away, and you will find yourself in sexual situations with men you meet on the train, cab drivers and guys you let pick you up off the street and take you back to their apartments.

You will let people photograph you naked, then spend the rest of your life waiting for those pictures to come back to haunt you.

But then it gets you thinking: You're single, too — what could be so bad about a casual night in bed with someone you like but don't love?

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