A few moments after sending a chat request, you might notice a little light on your phone. It might have a question, a witty remark, or a dumb joke in it. You would read it (and probably roll your eyes at the dumb joke) and send back a message. A little jolt of dopamine would flow into your system, a little tiny piece of bliss in an otherwise monotonous day.

Over the course of the next few hours, we would slowly get to know each other. You'd tell me that you are a married woman between the ages of 30-55. I'd remember that I've already mentioned my age, and that I'm 44. I'd tell you that I live on the East Coast in a rural area, and ask you not to hold that against me. You'd tell me that Eastern Time Zone is a convenient schedule for you, and you can't wait to hear more from me.

So, I'd tell you the story about the time I slept in a bank. You might tell me about your worst first date, or the trip you took to Mexico, or that time you went skinny dipping at summer camp. You choose the anecdote, it's your life. I'd send you a photo, and you'd say, "My you're a sexy fella," or "Eh, not my cup of tea." You'd send me a photo, and I'd say, "Thank you, wow, that's terrific. You are truly a goddess." Or something equally appreciative.

You might ghost me at this point. Some do. I can only assume it's because they are afraid of loving me too much. I understand if I elicit strong feelings. Ladies, I'm not looking for craziness here, or major life changes. Just some shenanigans. A little tomfoolery. Messing around.

If you're OK with that: OK with my dumb jokes and coffee obsession, OK with the occasional wisecrack about boobs or crazy sexual fantasies, OK with sharing some secrets, and OK with being my secret, well you should send that message.

And you might notice a little light on your phone.