If only I could control this stuff I'd rule the world. Or at least gaydar.

Perhaps it's just our human quirk of seeing patterns where there's really only coincidence, but I can't get over the feeling that my appeal on online dating sites ebbs and flows like the tide. It's like there's some sort of electronic pheremone that I occasionally give out, and it's totally beyond my control.

Take last week. I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, but I suddenly found myself in communication with three separate guys. Firstly, a fashion designer who wasn't my type but seemed to be very interesting. Secondly, a rough-around-the-edges charmer who seemed willing to have a decent conversation. And thirdly, a hunky miner who if nothing else seemed to promise the possibility of hot hard sex.

Too many times in the past I've had a flood of interest come out of the blue, and ignored all but the most appealing one. Then of course when that appealing one faltered I had no other irons in the fire. This time I decided to work smarter. I made sure to chat with all three of them as if they were the only one, turning on the old GTR charm, asking pertinent questions, demonstrating interest but not desperation. They all responded with eagerness.

And suddenly, like a portcullis slamming down, all three of them fell silent. No warning. No suggestion of waning interest. Just silence. At the same time.

My supply of pheremone must have run out.