Before He Goes Out on a Date, Paul Hohendorf Has a Simple Request: 'Just the Fax, Ma'am'

updated 02/20/1989 AT 01:00 AM EST

originally published 02/20/1989 AT 01:00 AM EST

Paul Hohendorf has moussed his long blond hair, splashed on Giorgio cologne—lots of Giorgio cologne—and in his left ear he has put a gold earring in the shape of a dollar sign, accented with a half-carat diamond. He is ready to climb into his Alfa Romeo and meet some women—75 women, to be exact.

Hohendorf refers to the women as "fax foxes," since many of them contacted the 33-year-old bachelor from Detroit after seeing his photograph and a greeting message that Hohendorf, a catering-company vice president, faxed to offices all over America, Japan and Australia. On this night in January, he has rented Fisher's Uptown Cafe in Detroit and is throwing a party for a few male friends and some of the local women who have responded to his faxes.

Hohendorf's modem operandi seems popular, partly for practical reasons. "It's much safer than meeting in a bar," says Karen Bartlett, 25, an ad-agency media buyer. "Plus, you know [men you meet this way] work at a reputable place and not the local gas station."

The first woman Hohendorf met electronically was Bonnie Nosanchuk, 27, a receptionist from Birmingham, Mich., whom he still sees. "He wasn't my first," she says. "I'd faxed guys in New York and California." On their first date, Hohendorf took Nosanchuk to New York, where they stayed (in separate suites) at the Helmsley Palace and went to Broadway shows.

The party, which lasts about three hours, is elegant but subdued, and as the event winds down, Hohendorf appears to have failed in his stated goal: "to find a perfect partner." She, by the way, will be "dark-haired, green-eyed and left-handed." And so Hohendorf leaves for a quiet dinner with friends and then heads home to what he describes as "the best bachelor pad in the world," still looking for love—or a reasonable facsimile.

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