Through online dating, I met over thirty men who never learned to cook. Basically, they want a mommy who takes care of them and great sex. Forget it.

Most men do good phone. NOTHING IS REAL UNTIL YOU MEET.

Yesterday Tom, 65, drove from Seattle to take me out to dinner. I brought him peaches from the farmer's market that I bought that morning. In summer and Fall, I give visitors fresh, locally grown fruit.

He ignored what I wrote in my profile: I want a man who also loves hiking. Although I'm a good cook, I want a man who also cooks. Everyone loves the magic words, "Dinner is ready."

"I eat what I loved when I was six," Tom said, refusing a salad with dinner. "I eat hot dogs and hamburgers. I hate salads."

"What did you learn from your two marriages?" he asked. "Never marry a man who hates his mother," I quipped. After thinking about it, I gave a deeper answer. I turned back his question: "What did you learn from your two marriages?" Since I was a human resources director, I'm good at interviewing.

He wants a female SLAVE to do all of the cooking, dishes, cleaning and weeding.

"I'm not interested in learning to cook," he repeated. "Cooking is a basic life skill," I said dryly. "If you can read, you can cook. Most cookbooks even have pictures."

Five years ago, he bought a house in south Seattle. "I only mow the lawn. I hate weeding and refuse to pull weeds. I don't want to take care of the yard. I want a woman who loves cooking, cleaning and gardening."

"This is not the 1950s," I replied. "My ex-husband and I took turns cooking. When Terry cooked, I did the dishes. When I cooked, Terry did the dishes. That's equitable."

"I always date men who also enjoy cooking," I said. "When men say, 'I change the oil in the cars,' that's not like the daily grind of making three meals a day and washing all the dishes. I'm not willing to be a kitchen slave."

"Why are you on dating websites when your second divorce was only six months ago?" I asked. "I like the company of women," he said. BS. He wants a slave.

He doesn't hike. That was the quickest dinner date ever.