An AOL offsite when I was still Honey.Yes, it's the Macarena. Shut up.

My very first online screen name was 'Honey.' Yep, just one word. My email address would have been honey@aol.com, but nobody used dot com emails in the early 1990's. Nobody used real names either, just screen names. Many of us had some interesting experiences under those hidden identities.

Before you start having cyber fantasies about me, let's get something straight about that name. I chose it because it's what my husband and I called each other. Still do. "Hi Honey, I'm home." "Honey, can you stop at the store?" "Want some more chicken, Honey?" Like that. Only like that.

It didn't occur to me at the time that the name suggested anything else.

I was so wrong.

As an AOL member I got hooked on the chat rooms. Met some very smart and funny people, much like those on Salon and Open Salon. They enjoyed interacting with others who could debate and spar and keep up.

Meeting people from all over the country, sharing ideas, experiences, views on anything and everything was fantastic. And addictive. Flirting harmlessly with strangers was easy and fun. Not so addictive for me. I was all about the communication and interaction and shared interests.

Sure, I was attracted to some I met online, but really, in a more cerebral way. My "Honey" at home still keeps me too busy --and on my intellectual toes-- for those kinds of extracurriclar activities.

Whether or not people might have lied about their physical attributes, most of us were attracted primarily to the personality and intelligence projected through the keyboard. Which is much harder to fake.

 Deep in the Woods of Chat

It was clear I had a gift for communicating especially well online. I constantly visited new chat rooms to test my cyber powers. I'm embarrassed to admit how naive I was in the early days.

One night I found a chat called 'Bears for Bears.' How cool, I thought, I bet I can generate some lively conversation here with a name like Honey.

I was totally ignored. Nobody talked to me. I tried over and over to join the conversation, amping up my smart, sexy persona. Nothing. Finally I asked the room in general, "Why isn't anybody talking to me?"

A kind and probably bemused man sent me an IM, "Sorry, my dear, 'Bears for Bears' is a room for hairy men who seek other hairy men. I'm quite sure you don't qualify."

I left in a hurry, mortified. And, well, a little skeeved out. If only I'd known how many chat rooms were geared for a wide variety of unusual sexual proclivities. And, well, unique preferences. I soon found out. And steered clear.

Plus, if anyone remembers or admits to knowing the culture, private chat rooms became wildly popular for personal interaction of the "typing with one hand" variety. 'Nuff said.

 I Get The Picture

 If you do a Google search of my name now you will find I am at least three different people in addition to my real self