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Sex on the net

Welcome to the singles bars and hotel rooms of the virtual city

By Nicholas Thompson   January 2001

I met clay in the basement of a smoky club in New York’s East Village. I had brought a bizarre multi-tonal guitar to play at one of the club’s weekly open-microphone sessions. After I finished, Clay asked me if he could borrow the instrument. I said, sure, assuming that he’d give up after a few tortured moments trying to navigate the tiny frets. But his hands moved gracefully and he began to play a gorgeous blues tune.

We spent the rest of the night talking and playing music together, next to a pile of beer bottles and a pool table.…

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