Not quite heaven, not quite hell, Purgatory night at Amos' Southend left me feeling stuck in the middle. While the event lived up to its reputation as the place in Charlotte to "let your freak flag fly," I expected more shock and awe. I left feeling underwhelmed.

First, the freaky part. Purgatory is the place to go if you like to people watch. Many of the attendees dress up in spectacular fashion: nuns, priests, naughty schoolgirls, angels, demons. They done bat wings and bull horns. One woman wore nothing but a neon green thong and electrical tape "X"s over her nipples. Another women wore an elaborate feather headdress and dark priestess costume that genuinely impressed me. Guys got into the cosplay of it all too. One walked around all night, seemingly looking for a playmate, in nothing but his tighty whitey's, a leather harness, and fake blood smeared all over his face and chest.

• LINER DESIGNS
• Purgatory 2007

Vendors were set up around the perimeter to hawk their wares: wooden paddles, "evil sticks" - I tried it and it burned like fire!, leather floggers, fur-lined handcuffs, studded collars, and the like. The vendors were friendly and knowledgeable. They seemed like a council of elders - folks who had probably been around the scene for a while. They offered encouragement and expertise, helping me choose between a thick leather collar with several rings or a thinner more flexible collar with dangling delicate chains. Decisions, decisions...

In the VIP area upstairs, one could sign up to be pseudo tortured in any number of ways: spanking, flogging, knife play, light electrocution. So the opportunity to indulge your fetish fantasy was there, but it was pretty structured and controlled. Granted, this is not someone's secret dungeon fetish club. These demonstrations were just that - demonstrations for an audience. Not that they didn't hurt; there was some very real pain going on there. Some people get off on being watched. Not only is the high from getting paddled, it's also from knowing your burning red ass is exposed to the world.

So as someone from outside the lifestyle looking in, I can appreciate that Purgatory does provide a place for people to dip their toe into kink. It's also a place for FetLife folks to get together offline. I appreciate seeing any kind of community building, especially for people on the fringes. Human sexuality is amazingly diverse. Everyone should be free to explore their sexual self in a safe and non-judgmental space.

What disappointed me most about the night is that so many of my friends refused to go with me. When I told them what it was, they were equal parts terrified and disgusted. I assured them that they didn't need to participate, that it was all monitored for safety, and that it's a well-established long-running event. Yet they still wouldn't go. So many of my guy friends brag about being "kinky" and "into weird shit," yet they freaked out at the thought of going to Purgatory. That's sad to me. It's not my particular persuasion, but I can still learn something by going. I can appreciate the variety that is the human sexual appetite. I can applaud the people brave enough to get tied up and hung from the rafters. I can find inspiration in seeing people be honest about who they are and what gets them off.

Don't forget, oral sex in North Carolina is still illegal and considered a "crime against nature." What is enjoyed by some, is repugnant to others. Judge not lest ye be judged.

I've reluctantly joined the masses and taken my search for love onto the Internet. My less-than-stellar track record with online dating has been well documented here, here and here. It has gotten me a few dates, but mostly lazy invitations to hook up. When I came across a local speed-dating group on Meetup.com with over 3,000 members, I thought I had hit the jackpot. That's a lot of people looking for connection - people who were actually getting out of the house with the intention of meeting someone.

The group usually splits events into two age groups, 25 to 39 and 35 to 55. I am in the lucky sweet spot where I could attend either, but I chose to go check out the younger crowd. The event was held in the basement of SIP. Located in the heart of Uptown, it is accessible, but also private. The bar seating and tables make it easy to have one-on-one conversations but also not feel too isolated. It was a good size for the group that night.

I walked in a few minutes late, slapped on my name tag, and hurriedly took a seat at the bar with date No. 1. It was surprisingly easy to find topics of conversation. The default questions like "Where are you from?" and "What do you do?" get old real quick. Everyone seemed pretty relaxed. Knowing that our time was limited, my dates and I usually found common interests to talk about and were disappointed when the bell rang and signaled the rotation.

Out of the dozen guys I met, only one of them was difficult to talk with - the awkward IT guy who was harmless enough but also kind of creepy. Come to think of it, there were a couple of IT guys there (must be a neglected demographic in the dating scene). There was also a professor, an arborist, a salesman, and a grave digger. Yes, a grave digger.

With speed dating, I was forced to interact with each of them. There was no technology to hide behind, and that is the way I prefer it. For me, so much matters in how a man carries himself, how he speaks, and how he laughs. I never really know if I am attracted to someone until we are within three feet of each other. Great pictures and clever profiles and witty texts only reveal so much.

It was a fun night, and I enjoyed meeting men I probably would have too easily dismissed online. I went home and selected my matches. The following day, I was alerted that three of my picks had also picked me. Not bad.

I've corresponded with two of the men but haven't met with either since. One is out of town on business (or so he says). The other hinted at a possible date but then only invited me over to his place. (Yes. It is getting ridiculously predictable now.) We were texting about our shared loved of Mac's Speed Shop and instead of asking me to dinner there, or even just to meet there for a beer, he said "When you come over to see me, we can order take out from there." In my book, that sounds like a booty call. Or at the very least, he is lazy. Not interested.

Speed dating wasn't any more successful for me than online dating. I am becoming more comfortable with the realization that what I am looking for may not be found.