People are brilliant. People are cunning. People, it seems, are so acutely aware of the population of pathetic people on this planet that they are constantly devising new ways to fleece them.

The latest example I've noticed is really quite astonishing. If you go to eBay and search on "imaginary girlfriend" or "imaginary boyfriend," you will be directed to a page of people auctioning off their services in this area.

It's prostitution for the prude. A rich fantasy life for the socially inept. A life for the fantasy-deprived agoraphobe in yours.

God bless capitalism. People seem oddly willing to offer up photos of themselves, and a lot of time typing made-up messages of love, in exchange for your cash -- which, in the case of the men, is a lot less than what insane men are willing to pay for dirty women. In my heart I like to think it's because there are fewer desperate women out there, but really it's probably due more to the advent of the rabbit vibrator and the fact that guys seem a lot more willing to hop in the sack with any horny girl if she offers to take off her clothes. Bless them for it, too, because boys, here's a tip: Sometimes girls just want to get laid.

What's a little sad is that these guys are going to be bound to this for a month or longer, all for a measly five bucks that's barely beer money. Still, it's five bucks well spent, ladies. One guy offers up a certificate of authenticity, one of his favorite cigars (but no mention of what he hopes you'll do with it), and a hardcover book with a sappy inscription. He writes, "You can tell your friends about me, but don't send them over here without a pizza or something."

This man is fabulous: He's serving up dysfunction on an AOL platter, offering to constantly compare you to his wife, whom he loves more than you, and who is hotter than you; he will remind you daily that you are simply meat for his bone and nothing else.

This guy adds an interesting twist: He'd like to be your imaginary stalker ex-boyfriend. He describes himself to you -- "for police line-up purposes" -- and he promises daily emails asking who you were with and where you've been lately, in addition to the possibility of threatening phone calls. But, ladies, YOU get to choose just how mean and threatening he is! YOU are in control here.

Another guy wants you to feel involved, so he will let you decide the fate of his facial hair. In addition, and this one is special: "You will also receive a rubber band bracelet on which I will write our names and hearts with a Sharpie for you to wear and I’ll be wearing mine as well." All this and some of his favorite emo song lyrics, quoted just for you. He's only five bucks right now. Can anyone resist?

I could have an imaginary orgy for less than $50. Come to think of it, maybe I should grab the crew and snap a photo and put that up for auction. Except with us, it'd be less an orgy and more, "Want to imagine you're drinking beer, swearing, and watching sports with a bunch of girls who really, really enjoy drinking beer, swearing, and watching sports?"

The girls are selling for far more, but I guess tits and ass and the potential peek at the love cave generally do run more costly than a man's expanse of bare chest. One "imaginary girlfriend" is currently selling for $250. Perhaps it's the pulse-racing proximity of Valentine's Day, which is sometimes enough to send the calmest single person into a sweat, but nine people have already bid on her and there's still four hours left. She is offering a one-hour video chat -- an online date of sorts -- and then one letter per week for sixty days. She promises to scent them. She then offers up two candid photos -- "one nice and one naughty, according to your preferences ((are you into boobs or butts? Lol))" -- and one professionally shot erotic picture to enhance daydreams. "That way," she writes, "When you are asked about me, you will have a genuine opinion about 'us.'"

She then promises that you can dump her, and she will write you begging for a reconciliation. That, sadly, is the last of her services, and she takes great pains to clarify that none of the above in any way makes her your actual girlfriend. Hence, "imaginary."

This has to be some sort of social experiment on the part of these ladies. One girl who provides a very quaint photo of herself explains that she's really just here for people who are tired of having to explain to people that they are not gay, and that they just can't get a girlfriend. She is okay with writing erotic letters, but would prefer to write about her hopes and dreams so that you can share these letters with others. I'm not sure why she's deluding herself into thinking this is more than just a cheap orgasm, unless of course her bidder is a psycho and a stalker, in which case she perhaps hasn't totally thought through this little plan.

Maybe I'll try to make a quick buck this way. I could be the first Imaginary Stereotypical Girlfriend out there on the Web. I'd offer to send them cards professing my undying love and affection and my surefire gut instinct that we'd be a great married couple with cute kids -- and then thanking them for our first date, hoping that maybe date number two could progress past a cup of coffee. They'd be addressed to "Poodle-Woodle" and "My Little Sausage Spank," and "Limpy." I'd promise to send him one really angry e-mail asking him why he hasn't returned one of my seven messages, and whether that means he's sleeping with someone else; then I'd follow that up with an e-mail explaining that I'm on my period and just fat and unlovable and all I want is a hug and he's too emotionally unavailable to give me that. I'd send him manila envelopes with shredded porno magazines inside that he can show to his friends and blame on me with a roll of the eyes. I'd also send him quizzes from Cosmo, like, "Are You Meant For Each Other?" and "Where Is Your G-Spot?" I'd arrange to call him during The Big Game and yell at him, then ask him a list of questions completely inappropriate to the sport in question. Then I'd ask to be put on speakerphone and ask all his friends to check and see if Mr. Saggy is wearing his tighty-whiteys and that he shouldn't eat Doritos because they give him gas and bitter-tasting semen --oh, and cut him off from the Coors, because he won't be able to last any longer than his usual five minutes in bed if he has another beer.

Finally, after a month, I would promise a series of ten wailing phone messages begging him to give me another chance. Finally, I'd send him a photo of myself in six months with someone who's hotter and in better shape than he is, with a nasty passive-aggressive note asking if he ever did get used to waxing his back.

What's this worth, do you think? Because I've been wanting to go overseas again.

Someone got here by searching for: jillian barberie idiot Reading: Kavalier and Clay; I'm about halfway through it after a really nice, quiet night. Waiting: For our line producer to come by with the paychecks. Hooray! It's nice to be getting paid again.