I mentioned earlier that I’ve become good friends with a senior State Department employee and his wife, and I was delighted and surprised when they called me up a couple of Sundays ago to have lunch with them. At lunch, they introduced me to a Western woman who is a prominent artist here, and we had so much to talk about (classical music is her specialty). It was great. She is older than I am, very worldy and very interesting.

So I was happy, albeit surpised, when a few days later she called and asked if I’d like to go to dinner with her. We met at a fancy fusion restaurant and, since I so rarely go to dinner with anyone but myself, I ordered a good bottle of wine. In retrospect, that was a mistake.

We were about halfway done with our over-priced dinner and wine, when she started to tell me why she finds me so attractive. Suddenly, I felt a sense of dread come over me, almost as if a rat had bitten me. I really panicked, although I kept my composure (I’m a PR man, calm in the face of horrific circumstances).

She kept talking, but at this point I couldn’t make out anything she was saying. It hit me — my State Department friends had set us up that morning. The whole things was an act of matchmaking on their part, and they thought they were doing both of us such a favor. Their intentions were totally good, but my God, what had they gotten me into?

I clasped my wine glass and swirled the wine around idiotically while I wondered, how the hell am I going to get out of this one? At this point, she was praising my necktie (or was it my cologne? I can’t remember, I was so frantic, and all that 2000 Wolf Blass Shiraz didn’t help me think more clearly). I looked up at her, sat up straight and gave her my most serious look. I think she was expecting me to propose.

“Listen,” I said. “Before you go any further, there’s something I have to tell you. To be honest, I thought you’d figured it out already. I’m….I’m….” I was hoping she would get it, so that I wouldn’t have to fill in the ellipse. I paused and waited for her, hopefully. But no. She looked at me with this inquisitive and innocent look, and I knew I was going to have to complete the sentence myself. It wasn’t easy, but I did.

Well, suffice it to say that it was all downhill from there. I really like and admire this woman and I want to be her good friend. But it was as though her balloon simply burst, and her facial expression just shouted out, “Oh shit.” She looked crestfallen, and I felt as though I’d committed a crime.

Her next line — “Oh, that’s okay, I’m glad you feel you can trust me with that” — was utterly unconvincing. All I did for the rest of the meal was apologize, and say, truthfully, that I had absolutely no idea she was thinking of us in a romantic light.

We got through it all, but I felt like sinking into the floor. I don’t like to disappoint people, but what could I do? I had to tell her, but it was so obvious that she just wasn’t ready. Afterwards, she didn’t say a word about how handsome I am.

I felt so bad for her. She had a clear expectation of what the night would be, and I pulled the plug on it.

Oh well, just one more of my many unusual experiences here in Asia. It sounds funny now, but I promise, it was anything but funny as I was going through it. She never called me again, though I wish she would; she loves Brahms and Wagner.