CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE: INFORMATION SUPERHIGHWAY TURNS INTO THE FREEWAY OF LOVE

If wedding bells ring in Cyberspace, is anyone there to hear them?

Ready for another Internet weirdo story?

A friend of mine ran off with some guy she met online two weeks before she was supposed to get married.

There I was, naively helping plan a bridal shower, complete with all the lingerie jokes and dollar sandwiches, when I got a call from said friend's sister.

"She bolted with Bobby," said the sister.

Bobby? Who's Bobby? D's fiance's name is Paul. He's a tax lawyer in Memphis, drives a pale blue Honda, wears a lot of gray suits.

Bobby, as far as we know, owns a plumbing business in Milwaukee. He and D rendezvoused twice in St. Louis before they decided to elope.

From Cyberspace to Vegas in the span of three months. I swear, the Information Superhighway is taking us straight to perdition.

D's sister, friends and (possibly former) fiance are firmly convinced Bobby's a serial killer, or at the very least, some kind of con man.

Not that you couldn't run into either of those species before virtual reality came into vogue; technology just makes everyone's life simpler.

The Internet is a strange and wondrous (and occasionally dangerous) phenomenon; total strangers can become acquainted in a matter of hours and hatch all sorts of plots.

At least snail mail correspondence took months to break up marriages or almost-marriages.

My friend Sherry got married this past weekend, and my buddy Sondra and her Pookie have set the date. Sondra and Pookie met the old-fashioned way: In a bar. Nothing virtual about it.

It's nice to know some traditions are still being following.

I occasionally get e-mail from total strangers, prompted to write by either the contents of these hallowed gray columns or some guest book I signed on a surfing expedition.

One man wanted to meet me for a drink, but I don't think marriage would have resulted.

And my mother taught me not to chat with strangers.

There's enough room for deception when people meet face-to-face. Virtual dating seems to leave a lot of room for....surprises, if not outright disappointments.

Actually, I've been on a few virtual dates where the other person was right there at the table with me; no modem required.

But that's another column.

Someday, weddings are going to be conducted online. Whole lives will be lived out over the Web.

Well, probably not actual births, but you know what I mean.

In the meantime, Bobby and D are honeymooning in Vegas (and, presumably, planning to telecommute through their marriage); and Paul is wondering what to do with the rest of his life and all those wedding presents.

I just hope nobody got them a computer.

Peggy O'Farrell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.