I probed, "Passion?" and she almost leaped off her seat in agreement. Her relationship was good in many ways-financially stable, secure, friendly-but it lacked.
Aside from the raw passion I had exhibited, she said I showed "thoughtfulness, intelligence, and a confidence" that came through in my writing - that and I didn't send her a picture of my penis.Īt 39, with two young kids, she lamented that her marriage had grown cold, and her husband complacent. Her answer was because of how I phrased things on my profile. I asked her why, with all the choices available to her, she had answered my email. She quickly agreed with me and then spouted answers as I took mental notes. Over the next hour, I played the part of the guy who was married but just couldn't get into the humdrum of married life. We exchanged pleasantries, ordered a mid-day cocktail (I think I needed one), and began talking - me sprinkling in my interview questions throughout normal conversation. It was crowded, but she recognized me instantly from my profile picture, and I had already secured a table. We met the next day at Albona Restaurant in San Francisco's North Beach restaurant district. If there's no connection, no harm, no foul. After about 40 minutes of banter, I went in for the kill: "Want to grab a bite to eat this week?" I wrote, asking her to lunch. We talked about books, sex, great places to travel, music, sex, movies, sex. No overtly intrusive questions, just getting to know me a bit.
We took the chat off the site to Yahoo! Messenger, and within seconds it was clear that she wasn't after cybersex she was trying to feel me out.
Her profile stated that she wasn't sure what she wanted from being a member of Ashley Madison, but she was clear that she wanted to chat with me. We got into a long discussion about the arm's length approach to cheating these women had, and if it was really cheating If it was borderline anonymous (read: they didn't know much about me), it was akin to an interactive romance or erotic novel. I told my wife about my hot chats, and she laughed. I hope I didn't disappoint them and that virtual cigarettes were ablaze in post-coital, pixelated afterglow of my cybersex adventures. It was arm's-length cheating for them (and perhaps one-handed typing). Most of these women seemed comfortable in getting what they needed online. In each session, I attempted to take things to the next level - an in-person meeting - but no-go. Over the next several days, I had chat sessions of varying length with 33 different women (hmm. I discovered that to satisfy their deep longing for passion with minimal risk, many women sign up for Ashley Madison to have virtual sex via chat. To formulate the right approach, I decided to do something I couldn't do in the real world: get into the minds of my competition, albeit a little sneakily. I posted a real picture of me (I was looking to connect in-person, after all), but I listed a fake name (if they Googled my real name, I was sure to be caught). Either way, women clearly had the upper hand when it comes to choice, so I needed to stand out against all the other guys. Reports following the aftermath of the hacking scandal revealed that only 15% of all Ashley Madison accounts belonged to real women, though at the time they claimed statistics their community was comprised of 70 percent men and 30 percent women. I was faced with the eternal online seduction dilemma: now what? What would make the opposite sex want me online? What would women want to see on my profile? I filled out my nickname and relevant info, plopped down my credit card number (the charge was discretely billed as "AMDB" to my credit card statement), and then all I needed to do was.
"Hello, Ashley Madison! Long time, no cheat!"
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