Imagine this. You spend all day chatting on the Internet. Because you’re a Chinese girl, you’re naturally very interested in learning and improving your grasp of the English language. You practice your conversational English by chatting online to all and sundry, but prefer men. Your conversation and engaging online personality are a winning combination — everyone is fascinated by you.

So fascinated, in fact, that if you were to approach one of your online paramours for money to help pay the rent / bills, they gladly oblige, every time. It is perhaps no coincidence that your boyfriends-by-remote are all wealthy foreign men.

Of course, your boyfriend du jour would like to meet you in person. He’s been so enamoured of your online chats that he’s ready to slap down the cash for a diamond engagement ring. He may fly to Shanghai to meet you, or fly you to his country of residence. You’ve been to Singapore, the UK, Norway — the jetsetting life with no worries about having to go back to a pile of work is something you’re getting very used to.

When you meet, things suddenly change. In real life, you’re nothing like your online persona. Your beau is surprised and disappointed. Things don’t last very long after that, and you soon find yourself back at home, sitting in front of the computer, trying to improve your English by finding new friends to chat with over IM.

(This is a true, if incredible, story. I was told of this young lady they call Princess, who thinks she’s the hottest thing since since sliced bread. She’s never had to work, because she moves from one online boyfriend to the next in an endless cycle. She never has to repay the money she receives, either in cash or in kind. She also self-published a 200-page English language magazine, filled with stolen articles and images. She thinks her nickname is complimentary, much like someone I know who thinks being compared to Paris Hilton is a good thing.)